


A Teacher's Love

by HungerDragon



Category: Pendragon - D. J. MacHale
Genre: Amber Norm, Cheater, Chelsea High, Demon Traveler, Drama, Dreams, Earnest, Em Stickler - Freeform, F/M, Hawaii, Jay Oh - Freeform, Librarians, Loneliness, Patrick's life before becoming a Traveler, Ravens, Romance, Sacrifice, School, Sparks Fly, Teachers falling in love, Third Earth, lion, love birds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 118,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7953736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HungerDragon/pseuds/HungerDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Pendragon series.</p><p>Patrick Mac is a teacher and the librarian at Chelsea High, and while he loves what he does, he's felt that something has been missing in his life. When a young woman named Amber Norm becomes the school's newest teacher, something unexpected happens that he cannot ignore– he falls in love. But what will happen when their love becomes threatened by the demon Traveler? Will their love survive, or will it all come crashing down?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Teacher's Past

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Pendragon series. Everything belongs to author D.J. MacHale, aside from a few original characters I have created for the story.
> 
> Hello! This is a story idea that popped into my head about a year ago, and I've been working on it since. I have the story posted on Fanfiction.net, and I wanted to post the story here as well. 
> 
> Patrick has always been one of my favourite Pendragon characters, and I wanted to write a story about what it would be like if our teacher/librarian fell in love? The story is still set in the same Pendragon universe, so Patrick is still a spirit of Solara but that won't come into play till closer to the end of the story. This takes place before he finds out about becoming a Traveler. This will mostly be a story of romance, but there will still certainly be some dramatic scenes, as I have some exciting things planned for the story, especially as Saint Dane will be making appearances throughout.
> 
> I always sincerely appreciate feedback, so feel free to drop by and let me know you think.
> 
> Hobey-ho ^_^

Six-year-old Patrick Mac wanted to know everything there was to know about the big, wide world.

From the time he was just a baby, the world in his eyes was a giant puzzle, one in which he wanted to study and explore, and uncover all its endless secrets. He didn't want a single nook or cranny left untouched. Whether it was learning about all the different countries, hearing of the once mighty dinosaurs that roamed the Earth, or diving into all the books of the New York Public Library one story at a time, there was always something new to be curious about. One more story to ponder about. One more discovery to dwell on. One more mystery to unravel. He just couldn't help but wonder about all those sights and smells and sounds that were part of everyday life. Each was just one more portion of the never-ending puzzle that tickled his constantly inquisitive mind as he tried piecing together all these individual parts.

And no one knew this better than his mother and father.

* * *

"Mommy, look!" Patrick exclaimed, pointing excitedly up at the branches of a giant Oak tree. There, returning from her hunt and settling on the edge of a nest home to four hungry babies was a mother Blue Jay. She wasted no time in feeding her young the freshly caught worms she'd collected on her morning search. "That's a Blue Jay, right? Just like in my bird book? See the blue and white and black?"

His mother chuckled, and answered with a smile, "Yes, sweetie. She's a Blue Jay, all right. Looks like it's breakfast time, too." She then added with another smile, "You're so good at finding birds, Pat. If you keep your eyes and ears open, I bet you could spot all the birds in the world if you wanted to."

Since he was just a toddler, his mother would always be calling him, "Pat."

"Really?" her son asked, his voice full of surprise and keenness. Fixing his eyes again on the Blue Jay, he studied the bird more thoroughly and watched as she carried on feeding her offspring their breakfast of worms. Naturally, the crying birds appeared quite satisfied after being fed their recent meal, but Patrick couldn't help think it was disgusting nonetheless, no matter how much the birds seemed to enjoy it.

Patrick made a face as if he were sucking on a lemon, and said, "Worms for breakfast?" He stared at the scene for a few seconds longer, and remarked while sticking out his tongue, " _Yuck_!"

His mother laughed in amusement and responded, "Worms are what the birds eat, sweetheart."

"Is it like cereal to them?" Patrick asked, trying to imagine how anyone or anything could find worms at all appetizing.

"I think so," was her answer.

"What about pancakes with syrup?"

"I'm sure for the birds, the worms are like cereal and pancakes."

"Oh," said Patrick, thinking long and hard about the comparison. He then looked up at his mother with his bright, brown eyes and concluded with, "I don't ever want to have worms for breakfast. I like cereal and pancakes with syrup."

His mother beamed down at her son and ruffled his longish brown hair. She assured him, "Don't worry, sweetie. You and I and Daddy aren't a family of birds so we'll let the birds enjoy their worms, okay?"

"And we can have cereal and pancakes!" Patrick proclaimed. "Oh, and scrambled eggs too!"

"Of course!"

It was then that a fantastic idea struck him.

"Can we make a bird house?" he asked, speaking so quickly that his mother was unable to keep from chuckling. "Our very own bird house? And paint it with birds so the birds know it's for them, and put it in the yard, and watch the birds eat from it?"

"I think that's a perfect idea," she told him.

After watching the Blue Jays for a few minutes longer, the two then walked through the park once more, and started back for home. Patrick enjoyed trips like these with his mother, when the two would spend the afternoon at Grand Blossom Park.

No matter the day or time, it always seemed like there was something to do there – tossing bits of bread to the family of ducks, flying kites when the wind was awake, having a picnic, or a scavenger hunt, or swimming in the circular pond. On summer days like these when the sun was shining most brightly and the park was bursting with life, it was the perfect time for one to enjoy an afternoon of bird watching.

His mother had introduced him to the hobby the previous year, and ever since, he'd spent much time flipping through the checklist she'd gotten him. He loved venturing out in the backyard or strolling through the park– binoculars in hand – while scanning the sky and trees for any birds he might not have spotted yet. Whether it was an Eastern Bluebird, Herring Gull, Rock Pigeon, House Sparrow, European Starling or a Red Tailed Hawk, he was determined to lay eyes on all the birds he could.

And with the rest of his life still ahead of him, he thought that was plenty of time to keep on searching.

* * *

On days when the rain was falling heavily, Patrick often spent his time indoors curled up on a chair with a stack of books at his feet and a snack in his lap. While most books no longer existed in a physical, hardcopy form, he still loved exploring how stories were normally held back in the time of the twenty-first century, almost three thousand years ago.

His father had shown him the vast realm of the online and technologically advanced database used to access stories and information of all kinds, but there was a certain appreciation Patrick felt for these ancient artifacts. He loved being able to carry these books around with him, as well as being able to flip through the pages as opposed to normally accessing them through a holographic screen. Of course, Patrick was enthralled with everything that could be done through the online world, but there was a special fascination he felt for ancient history. Maybe it was the excitement that only came from digging through the many layers of Earth's past. In a way, he felt it was like that of a treasure hunt, and where some just couldn't be bothered to go rummaging through the past, Patrick was just the opposite.

As for stories, he wasn't like the other kids who just didn't care for reading, whether it was fiction, based on true events or something purely abstract in nature. He was a bookworm at heart, and jumping into a story was like leaping into a whole other world he could become a part of. He loved reading so much that most of the time, he could pick up a story at random and almost always find something intriguing, mysterious, fascinating or all of the above.

* * *

When he reached the age of eight, he entered a phase that involved him developing a particular interest in detective stories. Reading of all the ancient tales of crime solvers, it amazed him how they never stumbled or let a tricky case stump them. Every sleuth and private eye he'd ever read about knew how to investigate and ultimately crack even the most challenging incidents. They knew what steps to take, where to go, who to question and knew when they'd finally cracked the case.

He also liked reading and learning about animals, and it was even better when he and his father would take trips to the local zoo. It was a place that was buzzing with all sorts of life, and was filled with an infinite chorus of sounds – roaring, squawking, snorting, chirping, splashing, buzzing, purring, croaking, squeaking and countless others.

But there was one animal Patrick loved more than anything else – the King of the Jungle. He wouldn't forget the day he saw one of these golden, majestic animals for the first time.

"Dad, Dad! Look!" shouted a wide-eyed Patrick. He was tugging at his father's sleeve, who knew his son would be thrilled upon seeing the mighty lion he'd been reading about at home and at the library. "A lion! He's looking at us! See?"

"He's a big guy, isn't he?"

"He's enormous!" cried Patrick. He was gaping at the golden beast with eyes the size of marbles. "And huge!" All the pictures he'd ever seen of these magnificent beasts simply couldn't compare with the sheer splendour of what he was now witnessing.

The hairy, golden mane was so much larger than he ever imagined, and looked like a giant blanket of fur that enveloped the animal's great head. Its eyes were like a sea and gazing into them, Patrick thought he caught a glimpse of the world itself staring back at him. He knew some couldn't help fear these powerful animals, in spite of their breathtaking appearance, but young Patrick felt only a sense of wonder. So many words sprang to mind while breathing in the sight of this remarkable cat – fierce, beautiful, inspiring, strong, and brave. Often, lions were portrayed as being symbols of bravery in all the tales he'd read, and standing there now, he couldn't think of an animal that better represented courage.

"Yup, King of the Jungle," said his father, his gaze following the lion. It was now drooping its massive head to take a drink from the large pool of water.

"He's my favourite!" Patrick declared.

"More than the elephants?" asked his father, a smile forming on his lips. "And the monkeys and zebras?"

"The lion's the best!" was Patrick's quick response. After a brief pause, he asked his father curiously, "Dad…do you think I can be as brave as a lion when I grow up?"

"I'm sure you can, Pal," said his father encouragingly. If there was anyone who believed wholeheartedly in Patrick's abilities to flourish and accomplish great things in life, it was his parents. "You put your mind to it, and you can be whoever you want and do whatever you want in life."

Patrick thought he could stand there and watch the lion in all its majesty for hours. He never thought they could be so incredible, yet terrifying, but no matter how fierce they could proved to be, there was a certain elegance that belonged only to the King of the Jungle. While they were undoubtedly an animal capable of displaying great ferocity, their stunning and awe-inspiring aura was undeniable.

But as he stood there considering what his father had said, he wondered if one day, he really could be as brave as the mighty lion? He knew his parents felt nothing but confident that he'd succeed in whatever he hoped to achieve in life, but still, he had his doubts.

* * *

When he compared himself to other kids, Patrick knew he didn't exactly fit in with their bold, adventurous state of minds. He just wasn't one that had that dauntless way about him. Where so many kids would be climbing trees, crawling through tunnels, falling and breaking their arms, and repeatedly attempting to out-do the other, Patrick was never like that. Sure, he enjoyed having fun as much as the next kid – playing tag, hide-and-seek, colouring, having races, playing baseball in the yard and just about every game kids liked playing. But he was never one that had that daredevil inside him. No, he was thoughtful, calm, careful and evidently timid.

"Come on, Patrick!" the kids would call to him. They'd already be climbing up some tree, or halfway through some tunnel while he'd still be rooted in place, staring back at them with uncertainty.

"I…I don't think that's a good idea," he'd say, the hesitation palpable in his voice.

"Sure it is!"

"It's fun!"

"This is awesome!"

"You gotta try it!"

"Come on!"

Patrick would watch them and would only answer back in a more quiet tone, "I-I'll just wait here."

"Come on, Patrick! Try it!"

"What if you fall?" a tentative Patrick would always ask. "O-or get hurt, or—"

"We're not gonna fall!" they'd shoot back with their usual confidence.

And like every other time, Patrick would finish by uttering quietly to himself, "I'm just not like all of you."

He knew he didn't have it in him to scramble up a towering tree without slipping and injuring something, nor did he have the guts to climb into a dim, shadowy tunnel without wondering what could be lurking inside. Where they didn't feel an ounce of fear or give anything a second thought, Patrick was a victim to his own apprehensive mind. He felt a much greater sense of safety and comfort by avoiding such situations and though he knew he wasn't brave like the other kids, there was no changing who he was.

The question was… would he grow out of it?

* * *

As he grew older and entered his teenage years, he was met with the realization that the Patrick Mac he'd known as a child had yet to fade. Instead of throwing fists of anger and participating in the typical truth-or-dare events, or attending parties and experimenting with drugs, sex or alcohol, he remained outside the circle. He'd hear the stories of violent fights that would arise at these gatherings, where the police would occasionally end up becoming involved. That alone was enough to convince him that no matter how much others would persuade him into joining, it was better to stay true to who he was.

Unfortunately, that meant questions would get thrown at him, to which he would give the same answers to, time and time again.

"I don't get it, Patrick," one guy would say, shrugging his shoulders in confusion. "Don't you want to get out and…have some fun?"

"I-I just don't really do parties," he'd reply awkwardly, keeping his eyes on the floor.

He knew his friends weren't trying to make him feel bad, but there was no denying that he was recognizing more and more each day how different he really was. Compared with the rest of Madderson High, he just didn't have that same sense of "party" in him that seemed so prevalent in the teenage population.

It was one of the reasons he felt himself growing apart from who he'd thought had become his friends. But it was all too obvious their interests had changed with age, and Patrick just wasn't changing in the same manner that so many others were.

"Why not?" another girl would ask, only adding to the increasing awkwardness closing in on Patrick. "Everyone loves a party."

Not knowing how to respond, all he could do was start to answer, but the words would get so tangled up that all he would manage to get out was, "Uhh…" He could never find it in himself to come right out and speak the truth without feeling that weight of awkwardness pressing down on him.

"Come on, man!" he'd hear a voice say, and feel a hand giving him a light clap on the shoulder. "Get out and have some fun! What's holding you back?"

Finally, Patrick would find his voice once more to tell them while working hard not to let that awkward feeling take over, "Thanks, guys, but…you go on without me, really." After pausing briefly, he'd then add while shifting his gaze uncomfortably, "I-I think I'll just stay home and study."

"Don't you wanna get out of the house though?" a guy would ask. With a little grin, he'd then nudge him in the arm while saying with a wink, "Who knows? Might meet a girl…" Patrick had a pretty good idea as to what the guy was really suggesting; he knew how the minds of so many guys operated.

The truth was, Patrick felt so occupied with his academic life that he really didn't spend much time dwelling on the fact that he didn't have a girlfriend...and never had. Nor had he ever kissed a girl, danced with a girl, or even held a girl's hand. It occurred to him that perhaps girls just didn't care for a shy, geeky guy who spent hours huddled over books instead of attending the latest parties and keeping up with the social world. Maybe to them, he was all but a boring teenage guy who just didn't know how to have a great time.

 _I'm just not like other guys_ , Patrick would think. Where he liked learning, studying, reading as much as he possibly could and challenging his own mind, the majority of guys found school tedious and didn't care to study and read. Their distracted minds were spent elsewhere.

What he didn't understand was why such a vast majority felt so pressured into needing a girlfriend or boyfriend while in high school. Too frequently, he'd seen students hooking up solely due to physical attraction and naturally, such relationships just didn't last. Of course, he knew the raging hormones played quite the role in all of that, but regardless, he just didn't feel that same need to jump right into a relationship.

Besides, what was wrong with waiting till he was older anyway? At sixteen, he had to focus on completing high school and earning the best grades he could if he hoped on being accepted into university. That was only the second stepping-stone in his academic life. He'd then need to strive in working towards finding the one career that would be calling to him.

No, he knew there was no rush for love. He might not have been familiar with the immense world of love, but he did know enough from what he'd observed so far in life that it could be a pretty complicated thing. Based on that, he didn't mind waiting to see what life would have to offer. Not only that, but he knew there were all sorts of love, but the one that seemed most special of all was what they called true love. He knew it was real, as he saw it every day from his parents. When it was alive and strong, there was no mistaking it for anything else in the world.

As for him, he kept reminding himself that if he were meant to find true love, then it would be found.

"I think I'll just do some studying," Patrick would repeat, finding it hard to look them all in the eye.

"Studying?" a girl exclaimed. "Why? I mean, why spend the whole weekend studying? That's no fun! You'll go stir crazy."

"Just come with us. You know you want to."

"Come on, Patrick!"

"It's fine, guys," Patrick would say, refraining from biting his lip. "I-I really do have stuff to do this weekend."

They knew there was no changing Patrick's mind. When he had hid mind set on something, it was practically impossible to talk him out of it.

After staring at him with odd expressions for a moment longer, the small group exchanged looks, then turned and left for class.

"Well…have fun studying then," Patrick would hear them say.

Glancing back at them, once more he was struck with the recognition of the unmistakable differences between he and his friends. That…and the fact that he just didn't quite belong in this realm that was High School. All the drama, rumours, parties and thrill-seekers just wasn't what Patrick Mac was looking for.

Because of that, he often felt rather alone. Small and insignificant even.

 _I'm just not like anyone else, I guess_ , he'd think, lost in his ocean of thoughts. _Just a guy named Patrick Mac._

* * *

So for the four years while he was advancing through Madderson High, he continued being Patrick Mac. He spent much of his time in the library completing assignments, research projects and studying for end-of-the-term examinations. Ever since he'd been shown the amazing complexity of the online world of computers, he'd been hooked. The technologically advanced system they had with computers in the forty-ninth century was all but astounding. Every bit of information was at their very fingertips with a press of some buttons and some verbal commands. It hadn't taken Patrick long at till he was searching away and interfacing with the computers as if it were second nature to him.

It was during his time in high school that he learned something very important about himself.

It was while he was at the library – any library – that he experienced a sense of belonging.

It was a place he felt truly confident in. It was where all doubts and insecurities could be washed away so his inner confidence could shine through.

It was a place he could call…home.

* * *

As he expected, his high school years flew by in a speeding blur. One moment he was in the tenth grade, and the next it was graduation day, and he was leaving his high school life. It came as no surprise to anyone that Patrick graduated at the top of his class in each subject, achieved high honours in every year, earned the highest overall academic average of 95% and would be awarded with a scholarship of twenty-five hundred dollars in recognition of his academic excellence.

When his name was called and he made his way across the stage wearing his gown and cap to receive his diploma, his parents couldn't have been any prouder.

"He works so hard," his mother uttered softly to her husband, her voice swelling with pride. "He always has."

Her husband met her gaze, smiled with equal pride and answered, "Yeah, he does. I can't think of a single day where he wasn't working away at something. I've never seen anyone so dedicated. He's got a passion for learning, that's for sure."

"He's grown up so fast," she commented, tears welling in her eyes. They were tears filled with a mixture of emotions – pride, joy and a bit of sadness. "Seems like just yesterday he was reading his first book, or getting on the bus for the first time….now he's off to university."

"Hey, are those tears?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her.

She chuckled, and pressed her head against her husband's. "Yes, it's expected that a mother's going to cry at her only son's graduation, dear."

"I suppose so," he smiled, kissing her lightly on the forehead. "Don't worry, though. He's growing up, but he'll always be your little boy. He'll venture off and find his place in the world, but he'll never be gone."

"My little Pat," she said, recalling all the precious memories of her son when he'd been young.

"It's funny," she heard her husband say. "He never liked being called Pat but he didn't seem to mind when you called him it."

"Yeah, you're right," she answered, then went on, "It's crazy."

"What is?"

"How fast time goes."

"It is. One minute we're celebrating his first birthday, the next…he's done high school. Hard to believe, really."

He watched his now graduated son walk off the stage, diploma in hand and a big smile on his face. When he turned and looked to the right, he stopped for a moment when he noticed his parents sitting in the front row. He broke out in an even bigger smile and gave them a little wave as he went and took his seat amongst the other students.

Now that Patrick would be putting his high school days behind him, he knew where his next stop would take him.

University.

* * *

Shortly after celebrating his completion of high school, Patrick shifted his focus onto what was typically viewed as the most nerve-wracking part of the university experience – applying. Though his grades were exceptional and it was obvious he was a hard-working, dedicated student, the worrywart inside him kept thinking he might not get accepted. Competition could be greater this year. What if there were a larger number of applicants to his desired program? The words what if kept running through his mind? Would there be a spot for him?

The only way of finding that out was to shove aside his fears, apply, and hope for the best.

When he knocked on the door to the Registrar's Office, he heard a woman's voice call out professionally, "Come in."

Patrick slowly opened the door and walked inside while closing it behind him. He turned his attention to the long, polished wooden desk in front of him and saw a woman who looked to be in her forties staring back at him from over her holographic screen.

"Hi there," said Patrick, clearing his throat. "My name is Patrick Mac. I, uh, I was just wondering if I might be able to apply to become a student here."

"Nice to meet you Patrick," the woman answered pleasantly. "My name's Mrs. Ellen. Glad to hear of your interest in applying to our school." She gestured to the chair opposite her and announced, "Please, take a seat."

After shaking hands with Mrs. Ellen, Patrick took a seat in the leather chair, and dropped his gaze to the envelope in his hand. Inside were all the well-earned high school accomplishments he hoped would earn him a place within the university. Suddenly, he found himself growing anxious all over again and out of habit, started biting his lip.

The woman sensed his nervousness and asked him kindly, "Nervous, dear?"

Patrick blinked and admitted quickly, "A-a little."

"Try not to worry," she smiled. "I know the application process can often seem intimidating for students fresh out of high school but it often isn't as bad as one expects."

Patrick nodded in appreciation, but he still couldn't shake the butterflies raging inside him. What if I'm not good enough?

"So how old are you, Patrick?"

"Eighteen."

"Wow, so you've just completed your final year of high school then?"

He nodded silently.

"Well, congratulations first of all for successfully graduating from high school. That's always a great first stepping-stone and an accomplishment in itself. And what program were you considering applying for?"

"Well, I'd love to be in Education."

Mrs. Ellen smiled and asked him, "So you want to be a Teacher?"

Patrick nodded, replying politely, "Yes, ma'am."

"That's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Teachers are such an essential part of helping society to advance and flourish. That's so great. Was there anything that drew you to teaching? Did you always know this was what you wanted?"

"I think so," Patrick said, chuckling lightly. "Even as a kid, I always liked helping other people and growing up, I always enjoyed school. I loved learning, studying and explaining things to other people. Both of my parents are teachers, so I guess I inherited their passion for teaching."

"Fantastic," Mrs. Ellen commented. "Your parents must be very proud. What section of Education were you leaning towards, Patrick?"

"Computer Technology."

"So you like computers then?"

"Absolutely," Patrick answered. "Interfacing with computers, research, programming, exploring databases…that's me. A lot of my time in school was actually spent in the library. I just love being around computers, and having access to every book or bit of information that's out there. I'd even like to try and land a job as a librarian someday, if the opportunity were to present itself."

"Well, it certainly seems you've got your mind made up," she commented. "As for the program we offer here, I'm sure you'd be happy. We still have quite a few spots left in the program, so if you'd like for me to look over your grades, I can absolutely do that and we can go from there."

This was it. The moment of truth. The single, one moment Patrick had been pondering about for the past few days.

Without a word, he handed her the sealed envelope and found his eyes locking in place as she began opening it. It was like time was slowing down. The tick-tocking of the clock on the burgundy-colored wall seemed three times louder. The shuffling of feet around him was like thunder and as her eyes scanned the pages, he feared his heart might actually burst right out of his chest. His mind was in overdrive with thought after thought emerging like wildfire.

_What's she thinking? Is it good? Will I have to go somewhere else? What does she think of my grades? Are they okay? Should I say something? Should I try and think of something else?_

After a grand total of one minute that felt like a never-ending lifetime for Patrick, Mrs. Ellen set down the pages, looked to the young student and held out her hand.

"Congratulations, Patrick Mac," she smiled. "You've just been officially accepted into our Education of Computer Technology program!"

Patrick stared at the woman with unblinking eyes. It was like his mind wasn't comprehending what she'd just said. Had he heard her correctly? Had he been swept up in a dream? Was he only imagining this?

Somehow, he was able to hold out his hand to shake.

The woman chuckled at Patrick's response and placed his papers and envelope on top of her desk.

"So, what we'll do for you now is officially enrol you in the program, set up an account for you, provide you with a detailed explanation of your classes, weekly schedules and all the buildings where your classes will take place."

It was only now that it was dawning on Patrick what had just happened.

"Wait... did you just say I got accepted?"

"That's right, dear," Mrs. Ellen replied.

"B-but that was so fast!" Patrick remarked, slightly confused. "I always assumed it was a longer, more detailed process?"

"Normally, it is a more lengthy process," she explained. "But you're what we call an exception."

"Exception, ma'am?"

"I only had to glance at your grades to see that you're going to be an excellent student here at our university. Based on what you achieved in high school alone, no doubt you're going to excel just as well in this program. To earn an overall average of 95% and to achieve the highest mark in not one, but all of your classes…that's not an easy task, Patrick. Most of the students we admit into our school apply with an average ranging in the seventies or low eighties. What you have here in terms of your academic achievements is simply exceptional. Not only that, but the fact that you dedicated time to volunteer at local libraries is always something we take into consideration as well. It's clear you have a passion for this field and there's only one thing I can think of to do for someone like you…and that's to accept you right on the spot."

Patrick hadn't expected them to speak of his accomplishments with such praise.

"T-thank you, ma'am," he said humbly, wanting to smile and laugh all at once. "I don't know what to say, really. This is…this is great!"

She smiled again and held out a small, black, circular pin. Patrick slowly took the pin and noticed the writing on it read: STUDENT OF EDUCATION OF COMPUTER TECHNOLOGY in thin, yellow lettering.

It was official.

He was now a part of the School of Education of Computer Technology. This was the next step in his academic journey to becoming a Teacher – the career he'd dreamed of having for years.

The waiting and wondering was finally over.

He'd done it!

"Welcome to the program, Patrick Mac!"

Passing along the exciting news to his parents, the two weren't surprised even the slightest. Ever since their son had left the house and gone to the university for his appointment, both had not even a single doubt of him not being accepted. They knew the colleges and universities were always seeking the brightest, hardest working and most dedicated students.

Patrick was all of the above and more.

"I'm so happy for you, Pat," said his mother, hugging him tight. "All the hard work you put in over the years has paid off. Just a few more years and you'll be done school and…and you'll be a Teacher."

"Thanks, Mom," said Patrick, noticing a few tears welling in her eyes.

"And a Librarian!" his father threw in, giving his son a friendly rub on the shoulder. "If there's anyone that would make the world's finest librarian, it's you pal. Heck, they ought to make you Librarian of the world!"

"Thanks, Dad," Patrick chuckled. "If there's ever a job for World Librarian, I'll make sure to apply."

It was hard to believe that in a few years time, Patrick would be living his life as a Teacher and hopefully, if he was lucky, a Librarian as well. Just like his parents, he too would be able to pass on his knowledge to others in the hopes that he could make a difference in the academic world. It wouldn't be long till the Mac Family would be a family of Teachers – his mother a teacher of English, his father a Teacher of History, and excitingly, he would be the teacher of Computer Technology.

"There's no doubt about it," his father concluded when he and his wife were alone later that evening. He locked eyes with her and the two could see the understanding reflected in the other's eyes. "This is the way it was meant to be."

"You think he'll be alright?" she asked him quietly, thinking ahead to tomorrow, when her son would embark on his first day of university.

Her husband responded with, "Patrick? Knowing that boy, he could have all four years finished in a year. He'll be more than alright."

And he couldn't have been more right.

* * *

While the expectations and workload had increased significantly since high school, this didn't seem to shake Patrick even for a second. If anything, his confidence appeared more solid than ever, as if his mind were more focused than ever on striving to be all he could be. Now so close to becoming a Teacher, it was like some part of him was awakening for the first time, helping him to meet every challenge head on. Like a tiny voice inside his head, it re-energized him in times of stress, restored his confidence when it was shaken, and revived his mind whenever it became too cluttered. He was thankful to have that inner voice, and even took comfort simply knowing that it was there if ever he needed reminding to stay true to who he was.

He also knew the constant support from his parents helped remind him that he _would_ complete his education and _would_ become a great Teacher and Librarian. Of course, there were days when he wondered if the four years would feel more like ten, but he tried not thinking ahead. Instead, he took it one day at a time and before he knew it, year one had reached its end. Following this, year two had come and gone and more quickly still, he'd completed his third year of the program. By the time the last year of his studies rolled around and he was nearing graduation, he'd forgotten all about how slowly he'd thought the four years would pass by.

In what felt like the blink of an eye though….once more he was walking across the stage on graduation day. It was time to be awarded his Bachelor of Education of Computer Technology. Another chapter of his life was about to be written. One door would be closing, while another would be opened. He now had the world in the palm of his hand, and it was now time to venture out on his own.

For the past twenty-two years of his life, while in school, he and his family had lived in the area of Lower Manhattan. But now with his schooling complete, it was time to venture out into the depths of New York City to begin his search for a teaching career.

It was strange and a little odd to be saying good-bye to his parents, but he kept reminding himself that this wasn't really good-bye, not in the traditional sense. Yes, he was moving out to live on his own and begin his career, but he'd always come back to Lower Manhattan to visit.

In many ways, it was just the beginning.

Nevertheless, there was still a touch of sadness in the air when he'd packed up his bags, gotten into his car and was driving off to his new apartment in the underground village of Chelsea. He and his parents had taken a few trips underground and Patrick always recalled how vast and maze-like the world beneath them always seemed. He was eager to now have the chance to explore more of these underground villages in their entirety.

It didn't take long for him to settle into his new apartment on the fifteenth floor of Chelsea's largest housing complex. The apartment itself was one of a smaller size, but in Patrick's eyes, was just what he'd need to live comfortably. The floors were of a soft, sand-colored carpet, the windows were built of glass panes and vertical blinds and the walls were a light grey. The couch and two easy chairs in the living room were of leather, and also in the room was a circular rug decked out in a black-and-white pattern of swirls. The bedroom consisted of a king-sized bed and a tiny sphere called a Platform that rested on a table opposite his bed. It was a holographic projector, and a multi-purpose item that functioned as both a television and a computer.

It may not have been the largest apartment available, but for Patrick…it was perfect.

Already he was home.

* * *

After he was fully settled, he sat down on the couch, pulled out his communicator, and began searching for teaching positions in the area. Page after page he scrolled through and it was at the bottom of one page that his darting eyes settled on a fairly recent advertisement. It read: COMPUTER TECHNOLOGY TEACHER REQUIRED at Chelsea High. Full-time position. If interested, please contact Ms. Simmons to arrange for an interview.

The instant he finished reading this, he was on the phone and arranging for an interview.

The following day…he was sitting in the office of the Director of Chelsea High herself – Ms. Simmons.

For the first ten minutes, Ms. Simmons asked Patrick to introduce himself and discuss his academic accomplishments. It was when she reached the final, ultimate question that Patrick had to pull everything together and convince her as to why they should hire him as their newest teacher.

"Ma'am, ever since I was little, I always loved learning and challenging myself to learn as much as I possibly could. When I was six, I wanted to learn all there was to know about the world. For me, there was always something so fascinating about how much knowledge there is to explore. It was like a whole other world, and when it came to computers, I never felt more at home. I'd spend hours familiarizing myself with how to interface with all sorts of computers and how to access the information to the best of my ability. Much of my time in school was spent in the library, which I always thought of as my second home. It was where I felt I could just be myself. I always felt so confident and no matter what book I opened up, there was something to learn and wonder about. It wasn't long till I knew I belonged in a school."

The next few minutes felt like the longest Patrick had ever known.

"Well, from what it sounds like," Ms. Simmons began. "It sounds like you've got quite a passion for this field. As for your resume, I can say that I'm rather impressed with your academic record, Mr. Mac. It's clear you've worked hard to get where you are today and I'd just like to congratulate you on your achievements."

Patrick acknowledged this with a nod, and in a humble tone, said, "Thank you, Ms. Simmons."

"As for the job," she continued. "We've had six applicants over the past week applying for this position. You're the last applicant we've interviewed and after giving it some serious thought…I believe I've reached a decision as to who I would like to have join our staff here at the school."

Patrick swallowed, refrained from biting his lip, maintained eye contact with the Director…and waited.

With a broad smile, she held out her hand to shake while telling him warmly, "It gives me great pleasure to say…welcome to Chelsea High, Mr. Mac."

"M-me?" he asked, fighting to keep his jaw from hitting the floor in dumbfounded shock.

"I feel you'll be an excellent addition to our staff," she told him, shaking his hand. "You're intelligent, passionate, hard-working, friendly, all things we look for in a teacher. I'm certain the students here will be delighted to have you as a teacher."

"Thank you, ma'am!" Patrick answered, his face breaking out in a smile. "I promise I'll do my best."

She nodded, and went on, "We look forward to working with you. We hope you find yourself at home here at our school. Before I provide you with more information, however, there is another question I would like to ask, if you don't mind."

"No, of course not."

"We've just received news that our oldest staff member, Mrs. Thompson, has recently passed away at the age of ninety."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Patrick softly.

"She was the librarian here at the school for forty years and we're now in need of a new librarian and as you've expressed such a passion for books and computers…I was wondering if you would be interested in filling this position?"

Patrick repeated the question in his own head. Had he heard right?

"You…you're asking if I want to be the new librarian?"

"Certainly," she confirmed. "The school could really benefit from having someone with as much passion as yourself. More importantly, the students could benefit. You could help them see computers and knowledge in a different light. You're young, Mr. Mac. The students could really benefit from a fresh perspective…and I'm confident that you could provide them with that."

"Thank you, Ms. Simmons," said Patrick, feeling somewhat dazed, but thrilled. "I-I'd love to!"

"I'd say my search is over then, Mr. Mac," she stated with finality. "Chelsea High now has its new teacher…and new librarian."

And so, at the young age of twenty-two, Patrick's new life as a teacher and librarian at Chelsea High began.

* * *

The school itself was much larger than Patrick had expected but in only a few days, he would start to know his way around the large building. His classroom was on the third floor and the moment he stepped into it, he was struck with a jumble of racing emotions. For a few minutes, he did nothing but wander around in silence while taking in the room where he would be doing his teaching. It was when he turned to leave that his eyes fell on a sight that made him sure that all the long school days he'd spent studying were worth it.

Centered on the door was a golden, brass frame. In bold, black letters it read: MR. MAC.

It didn't take long for the other staff members to welcome Patrick to the school. While he was the youngest teacher there, the older teachers were pleased to have him at the school, and assured him if he ever had questions about anything about all, they'd be happy to give him a hand.

As for the students, they'd heard that a new teacher would be replacing whom they'd had previously, but weren't expecting one so young. On the first day, as they all took their seats, they quickly started exchanging ideas and thoughts as to what their new teacher would be like. It was when their new teacher strolled into the room with an air of calm confidence that they realized how wrong they were. Not only was he much younger than all their other teachers, but there was a kind of sparkle in his eye that told them he wouldn't be some strict, no-nonsense teacher who scolded and spoke in tedious tones.

The girls, of course, were all taken aback by this new teacher, and found themselves staring at him with unblinking eyes. They hadn't expected a young man to step into the room and if they had to admit, they'd all agree he was rather handsome! He was dressed casually in a green, short-sleeved shirt with jeans and what with his long brown hair and brown eyes…they suddenly found themselves looking forward to this class. The guys would catch on fairly quickly how they felt and would joke with them saying, "Someone's crushing on the teacher!" But they couldn't speak too loudly, should this new teacher hear them. The girls would hate to end up in the awkward situation of thinking their teacher was cute...and the teacher knowing about it.

"Hello everyone!" the man began, standing at the front of the class with a friendly smile. "My name is Patrick Mac, and I'm looking forward to getting to know all of you as the year progresses. I'm very pleased to be one of the new teachers and librarian here at the school. I'm hoping to teach you as much as I possibly can, and my hope is that you'll find that the world of computers and knowledge is actually quite an interesting one. As part of the Computer Tech course, we'll be reviewing lots of concepts and techniques for using the computer system, and I hope you'll all enjoy some of the projects we'll be exploring."

After having the twenty students briefly introduce themselves, one of the girls in the front row raised her hand.

"Yes, Shana?"

"I was just wondering if we could maybe go on a field trip some time in the year?"

The rest of the class all broke out in fervent discussion and it was clear they hadn't had a field trip in some time.

"Sure, I think I could arrange that," said Patrick. "How many of you have been to the New York Public Library before?"

A couple students raised their hands in response.

"Okay, I'll look over the schedule and see if there's a day we can head down there. It'd be a great opportunity to get a more hands-on approach to using the computers. From what I've seen so far here at the school, the library here is pretty advanced. But letting you guys spend some time at the New York Public Library would be beneficial, as they have some great technological features there you can all get acquainted with. How does that sound?"

His class replied together in unison with, "Cool!"

Patrick was about to get into more detail on what he had planned for the course, when he suddenly fell silent. For some reason that he didn't understand, he felt something strange and uncomfortable forming in the pit of his stomach. He wondered if he was coming down with a simple stomach ache? But that didn't make sense, as all he'd eaten for breakfast was some buttered toast and oatmeal. Surely that wouldn't be enough to throw his stomach out of balance. So then why did he feel like his stomach was twisting and tightening? And why did it feel like some unnerving weight was weighing him down?

One of the girls in the front row – Em Stickler – spoke up, asking, "Mr. Mac?"

What is it? Am I just feeling sick? Should I maybe head home?

"Are you okay, Mr. Mac?"

_No, I'm fine. It's probably nothing. I'm sure there's a logical explanation for all this. I must be coming down with the flu. Just a little flu. That's all._

Before anyone could say anything else, Patrick saw a woman's figure appearing out of the corner of his eye. When he turned to see who it was, it was the Director of Chelsea High, Ms. Simmons. He was surprised to see her standing there, as she was usually busy and working away in her office, but there she was.

But something about the way she stood there staring at him made Patrick feel worse than he already felt. Without warning, the knot in his stomach started squeezing and releasing, his heart began racing and his mind flew into overdrive. Without knowing why or how he possibly could, already Patrick feared why the Director was standing there in his doorway.

And he prayed he was wrong.

The silence that had overtaken the classroom was all but eerie. As the two stood there – teacher and director – staring at the other, the students felt a similar pit growing in their own stomachs. The stillness lasted for only a couple of seconds but for Patrick, they would be the few seconds he would end up replaying over and over for the rest of his life.

"Mr. Mac," the director started, but the words caught in her throat. She swallowed, and found herself struggling to get the words out. While sighing sadly, she glanced down at the floor and a sad look washed over them.

Patrick said nothing. He remained standing, his eyes locked on hers and his body feeling like it might collapse at any moment.

It was what she said next that Patrick knew why she'd left her office to come and find him. He didn't need to hear the rest; he already knew.

"I'm so sorry, Patrick," she whispered, her voice shaky.

That was all he needed to hear.

Before Ms. Simmons could say another word, Patrick hurriedly made his way towards the door…and rushed past her. That unsettling feeling was now no longer in his stomach; it was in his heart and filling it with a sense of dread, fear and sorrow like he'd never known before. It was such an alien, terrible feeling, and it was one he felt would take over his entire being like some horrid virus.

As he flew down the hallway, a few students walked by but it was like they weren't even there. His vision was turning blurry and even the halls and doors and faces around him were all clouding together in a mass of swirling colours. He felt like the walls were closing in on him impossibly quickly. He feared he wouldn't be able to stay standing for much longer, but his body was acting all on its own now. Though he felt he might collapse at any moment, still his body refused to do anything except run.

As he reached the front entrance, he heard a man's voice speaking and in the room next to him was a holographic image. Patrick's mind seemed to lock as the man's words reached his listening ears. He was describing a shocking occurrence that had unfolded earlier that morning, in which a wife and her husband had been tragically shot down by a masked gunman. The two had been walking by an old cemetery when the tragedy had transpired and police were still searching for the suspect.

Hearing the names of the man and woman whose lives had been so heartbreakingly stolen…Patrick felt the world crashing down upon him. Everything - the walls, ceiling and very school itself - all felt like it might come falling apart, only to then smother him.

He shook his head, disbelieving, and with what little energy he had within him, stumbled out the front doors. He nearly tripped over his feet, yet somehow managed to keep from falling.

With his whole body shaking uncontrollably, he forced his way over to the elevator, traveled up to the surface above, and went on running till he could run no more. Finally, he sat down on a wooden bench, not even knowing where he now was or even what time it was. He'd lost track of just about everything. He pressed his head into his hands, and surrendered to the tears welling in his reddened eyes. One after the next, they slid down his cheeks; he didn't even try to fight against it. There was no stopping this outpouring of tears that trapped him in the heaviest, most heart-wrenching grief he had ever known. He must have sat there for ten minutes sinking deeper and deeper into this pit of unforgiving despair.

Finally, he lifted his head, gazed up at the cloud-filled sky with woeful eyes…and watched as the darkened clouds began spilling out drops of rain. As drop after drop fell, trickling down his aching face, it was when he felt the torrential downpour drenching him that the shattering truth struck him…and it couldn't have struck him any harder.

He no longer had a mother or father.

The parents he'd loved all his life were now dead.

His family…was no longer.

He was now an orphan.

Patrick Mac sat alone on that bench for the next hour, the storm of raindrops pounding down on him like a never-ending storm of bricks. It was like he was feeling his own emotions crashing down upon him with such force, he feared it might very well be the death of him.

Today was to suppose to be the day he would experience his first day as a Teacher and Librarian. It was suppose to be the day that marked the beginning of his new life.

What he'd thought was going to be one of the best days of his life was now the most painful day he'd ever known.

* * *

The next few days passed by terribly for Patrick.

He found sleeping was all but impossible; he spent much of his time sitting alone in his apartment staring in a daze at the wall, and even simple, everyday things like showering, getting dressed or eating breakfast took a great deal of effort. Hardest of all was being surrounded by all the things that reminded him so much of his parents. It was like wherever he turned, he saw them and like whispering ghosts, he kept feeling like their voices were still very much there beside him, speaking….but he knew the truth.

He was now alone.

Painfully, utterly and unmistakably alone.

So often, when he felt engulfed by his thoughts, all he could think was: _I don't know what I am anymore._

The day of his parent's funeral, Patrick felt the world closing in once more on him. Seeing the intricately carved coffins and knowing his mother and father were both inside was almost too much for him. But somehow, he gathered all the strength he could to stand up at the podium give a eulogy on the two people who had loved and raised him to become the person he was today. Though he broke down in tears while remembering his parents, he wanted everyone there to know what amazing people his parents had been, and how much he'd loved them.

As he was speaking, there was something he noticed that even years later, he still remembered. Standing at the very back of the building was a tall man with short grey hair who was dressed formally in black and white. There was nothing peculiar about the way he was dressed, but what Patrick did think was odd…were the man's eyes. Even from where he was standing up at the podium, Patrick could still make out the man's eyes, and they were the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. In a way, it was almost unnatural how blue they were.

And when Patrick had finished his speech, and was leaving the podium, wiping the tears from his eyes, the blue-eyed man who'd been eyeing him closely…smiled victoriously. Though Patrick didn't notice, the icy-blue eyes that belonged to the mysterious stranger flashed even brighter but just as quickly, he was no different than those around him.

For the next four years, Patrick began the journey of not only living life as a Teacher and Librarian, but ultimately, rediscovering himself and helping himself to heal. His passion for teaching, learning and studying was reborn and day-by-day, he felt like he was meeting himself all over again. Day by day, he rebuilt what had been hiding inside him, waiting to be reborn. There wasn't a day that went by where his parents didn't pop into his thoughts, but he kept their memories alive and well. Whatever he did and wherever he went, he kept their spirits alive and knowing how proud they'd be of him helped rejuvenate his strength.

* * *

It was on his twenty-sixth birthday that Patrick had an idea. It was one that had been tickling the back of his mind for the past few weeks. As he lived alone in his apartment, there were times when he felt lonely and wished he had some company and after giving it more thought, he knew the perfect place to go.

An hour later, he returned home, with his hands and arms as full as if it were Christmas morning. In one hand he held a carry case and in the other he carried a large bag of food and a soft bed layered with cotton.

He set down the bed and bag of food and turned his attention to the crate. From inside, he could hear tiny scraping sounds and watching with a smile, noticed a miniature nose peeking out, as if wanting to say hello to the world. From the other side of the crate, he caught sight of a skinny, orange tail.

Kneeling down, he reached out and opened the door to let his new friend out.

Walking out towards him was a tiny, orange figure covered in fur. Her eyes were a sparkling green and she was entirely orange in color aside from the white tip on her tail. She scampered toward her new owner with a light chirp and nuzzled her small head against his lap.

Patrick chuckled and said, "Hello to you too."

He gently patted the tabby kitten behind her ear, and she meowed in approval while licking his other hand with her sandy tongue. Initially, Patrick had considered adopting a dog, but what with the long hours he spent working at Chelsea High as both a teacher and the librarian, he wouldn't be home often enough to spend time with it. He knew dogs were active animals that needed lots of time to get out of the house, chase a ball, roll around and basically spend time with their owners.

That was when he the idea occurred to him…why not a cat?

That was what led him to be sitting in his apartment with an orange tabby kitten crawling onto his leg and nestling its head into his leg.

"But what to name you?" said Patrick out loud. He looked down at the kitten and ran a list of names through his head, wondering what name he should give his new, friendly companion.

"Lady?"

The kitten's response was to continue nuzzling its head against Patrick's leg.

"No? Okay…how about Ginger?"

Still no meow.

"I am just not good with names, am I?" he asked her with an amused chuckle. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a red collar he'd picked up while at the store. While gently placing it around her neck, he suggested, "How do you feel about Marigold?"

No meow.

"Whiskers?"

Silence.

"Tiger?"

Nothing.

Patrick carefully picked her up in his arms and asked, "I've got it…No-Name!" She yawned and stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. He chuckled and told her, "Just kidding."

He was feeling stumped as to what name to give to this little kitten. What to name her…what to name her?

As he watched her, he saw her eyes gazing up into his own and just like that it hit him. He knew the perfect name for this tiny kitten. It was staring him right in the face. The young tabby appeared serious about what name she was to receive, and it was based on this characteristic he would name her.

"Earnest!"

His newly adopted kitten lifted her head and meowed loudly, voicing her approval. Patrick laughed, placed her back down on his lap and rubbed her head.

"Earnest it is!" he announced. "Well, welcome home Earnest. I hope you'll like it here. I've got some food and a bed all ready for you. You'll have to help me out with toys though. I'm kind of new to all this, so you just let me know which toys you like and I'll see what I can do, okay?"

But the kitten Earnest was already fast asleep on Patrick's lap, purring contently.

A few days later, Patrick was strolling through the front doors to Chelsea High when he heard the Director in her office speaking with one of the English teachers.

"Looks as though we'll be needing to hire a new Computer Technology teacher, for the eleventh graders," he heard Ms. Simmons say. "With Mr. Walker retiring, we'll need to have that spot filled as quickly as possible."

"Shouldn't take long," the teacher commented casually. "New graduates are always looking for jobs. Who knows? Might even have a new teacher by the end of the week."

As Patrick continued on towards his classroom on the third floor, he wondered what sort of person would be joining the Computer Technology staff. Mr. Ross taught the twelfth graders while Patrick was responsible for teaching the tenth graders. He now wondered who would end up teaching the eleventh graders?

Patrick been a teacher and the librarian at the school for four years now, but this was the first time since he'd been there that a new teacher would soon be arriving.

He wondered who it would be.


	2. Something's Missing

Patrick Mac had been sleeping soundly in his bed for the past few hours after working an eight-hour shift at Chelsea High. He found it funny how incredibly comfortable a simple bed could sometimes seem and that night, it was like the bed was ten times softer. The pillows, the irresistibly soft comforter, the fleece blankets, the mattress…all blended together so perfectly. With how easily his head sunk into the cushiony pillow, there was only one thought that often jumped to mind when he felt so impossibly snug.

_How am I getting out of this bed?_

He only ever had time to think this for a moment or so when the alarm on his comm would intrude on his slumber with its familiar _beeeeeeeep_. Unlike some alarms that were all but loud, piercing and not at all pleasant sounding, the alarm on his comm sounded more like the whistling of a bird. Fortunately, not all alarms were designed to function as a shrieking nuisance in the early hours of the morning.

This morning, however, there was something else that got to Patrick sooner. For the past few days, he often found himself being woken by this equally effective alarm. He actually preferred this over the alarm on his comm. What forced him awake wasn't the sound of a beeping alarm.

Without opening one's eyes, anyone might have assumed it was a feather attempting to rouse them awake, but he knew that wasn't the case. It was a soft, fuzzy tail tickling the very tip of his nose. Following this, he'd open his sleepy eyes to see a furry, inquisitive face staring into his own. Next thing he knew, he was feeling the tiny, sandy tongue of his kitten Earnest licking his cheek and her long whiskers soon after. It was as if she were telling him: _Rise and shine, mister!_

Of course, there was no way he could stay sleeping with a kitten pressing its face against his own. He might not have had his new kitten for very long, but he knew her well enough to know she was just getting started. She knew how to maintain total control over her owner by continuously showering him with affection. Rubbing up against his legs, gazing up at him with her emerald-green eyes, following him around the apartment while purring contently, curling up on his chest for a cat nap – she knew Patrick could never resist.

"Hey, Earnest," he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He then yawned, gave his arms a long stretch and gave her the usual morning rub behind the ears. "You sure like substituting for my alarm clock, don't you?"

Staring up at his much larger face, she reached out and started pawing gently at his nose, as if to say: _Out of bed, sleepy head!_

"Okay, okay!" he laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm up!" Earnest – clearly pleased with her victory – responded by meowing and making her way to the end of the bed, her skinny tail flickering behind her.

Patrick watched her and shook his head in both amazement and amusement. He called out to his tiny friend, "I've got to hand it to you, Earnest…you really know how to get a guy out of bed. Who needs an alarm clock when he can just get tickled to death? Makes sense."

His orange tabby glanced back at him, letting out one of her characteristic chirps.

"Don't tell me," he smiled, well aware of what it was she was asking of him. "Breakfast?"

As if in answer, she chirped again and trotted out of the room to make her way into the kitchen. Not wanting to keep her waiting, he gave his arms another quick stretch and crawled out of bed. Even from his bedroom, still he could hear the chirping and trilling of his hungry friend, calling to him.

When he entered the kitchen, there she sat in front of the cupboard she knew belonged to her. With her tail flickering slowly, she looked up to Patrick expectantly and before he could speak, he heard a tiny sneeze escaping her.

"Alright there, Earnest?" he asked, kneeling down to open the cupboard. He added in a joking tone, "Careful, or you'll get me sneezing!"

He reached inside, pulled out the bag of food that belonged solely to her, as well as her food and water bowl. Both were a brightly colored blue with repeating cartoonish pictures of fishes and paw prints. As soon as Earnest saw the scrumptious bits of food pouring into the bowl, she leaned her head in closer, meowing excitedly.

"Hold on, miss," said Patrick, filling the bowl with a few more pieces. He then set the large bag of food to the side and gave her another friendly pat on the back while announcing, "Dig in."

While Earnest was hard at work keeping her head buried in the bowl of tuna-flavoured pieces, Patrick went ahead and prepared his own breakfast. Normally, his morning routine consisted of sitting down to a quick, simple meal of cereal, buttered toast and a swig of Hazelnut coffee. There weren't many flavours he hadn't tried and most he'd enjoyed – French Vanilla, Peppermint, Banana Caramel, Coconut – but Hazelnut was the only flavour that seemed to ignite a spark in him. He remembered having tried tea once, but hadn't been too fond of the taste, so he decided to stick with what he knew he enjoyed, and that was coffee.

On that morning, though, he felt like something different from his usual meal. He glimpsed down to see the time on his comm read 7:00am. He had to be at the school by eight, and as Chelsea High was only five levels down from his apartment, there were never any worries about not showing up to work on time. Patrick could make it from dead asleep to his classroom in fifteen minutes, ten if he pushed. One thing was certain, if there was anyone who could shift into fast-forward mode, and make it to work in barely any time at all, it was Patrick.

As he stood there considering what to make, he felt Earnest pressing up against his leg. One look to her bowl and as always, there wasn't a single piece of food remaining, not even a crumb. His tabby took her eating as seriously as she took her playtime, bathing, and napping next to Patrick.

"What do you say?" he asked her, hands on his hips. "Any suggestions?"

She tilted her head as if giving the question some thought.

"French toast?"

Her tail flickered from side to side as she went on observing him, her green eyes appearing as if they were shining.

"Okay, scratch that. Omelette?"

Her response to this was to carry on purring.

"I got it…pancakes?"

Earnest stood up briefly on her hind legs while planting her small paws on his own leg. She then gave that familiar, classic meow that was her own unmistakable way of communicating to him, "Yes!"

Shaking his head, Patrick laughed, "I know, Earnest. You smelled the maple syrup on my pancakes last time I had some…and now you want some. Sorry, miss. Can't go feeding you syrup. But I can give you the next best thing. How about some Crunch-Its?"

His tabby hurried over to the same cupboard where she knew her stash of chicken-flavoured treats and other goodies were stored. Patrick always found it funny that despite the fact that Earnest was but a small kitten, she was very much a clever and vocal little pet. If she was hungry, or wanted to play, or liked or didn't like something, she would let him know through a chorus of meowing, chirping, or purring or silence. She was also a very serious little kitten, and just as Patrick took his many responsibilities at Chelsea High seriously, she too took hers seriously.

Sincerity and earnestness filled her heart, and the one thing she took most seriously of all…was to make her new owner, Patrick, happy.

As Patrick took his seat at the kitchen table, he scooped the kitten up into his arms and placed her on the chair opposite him. She peeked her tiny, orange head up over the table and he could have sworn her eyes grew twice as large at the sight of the freshly made pancakes…and the warm, thick layer of syrup coating them.

"How are you still hungry?" asked Patrick in a dumbfounded voice, while taking an eager bite. Earnest remained sitting upright on her chair, eyeing the stack of mouth-watering, delicious syrup- coated pancakes on her owner's plate that she knew were not meant for cats.

Nonetheless, that didn't stop her from watching intently.

While eating, Patrick had forgotten how much he enjoyed pancakes and syrup; it had always been his favourite breakfast growing up. In his eyes, there wasn't a person he knew who could make a finer stack of pancakes than his mother. He could still recall how effortlessly she could put together a grand breakfast that would leave him wanting seconds, and even thirds. And each and every time she'd whip up a heap of those golden delicacies, Patrick would be treated to an added taste of strawberries, raspberries and blueberries.

He made a pretty good helping of pancakes himself but no one could replicate the delectable treats his mother had been known for making.

As he raised his mug for a sip of Hazelnut coffee, he shifted his focus to the little friend seated across from him. As if in a daze, she followed the cup as he brought it to his lips but knowing Earnest, he knew she didn't care for the coffee.

What she wanted was a lick of those scrumptious, syrup-drenched pancakes.

" _Really_ , Earnest?" he asked, setting his mug down and grinning widely at her. "You'd think we were having a staring contest. You're persistent though, I'll give you that. Instead of playing with all those nice new toys I bought you, you'd rather sit here and watch me eat pancakes and drink coffee."

She meowed, pawing the top of the laminated table while staring more keenly at the now almost empty plate.

"Don't worry," he added, throwing her a frivolous smile. "You're always welcome to sit here and watch. And you'll always have a front-row seat."

Earnest chirped lightly, and then proceeded to bathe herself.

Patrick shrugged and said, "Or there's that."

He spent the next few minutes enjoying the last few bites of pancakes and one final sip of coffee and checking his comm, he saw he still had thirty minutes till his morning class began. That was more than enough time for him to shower, get dressed and head down to the twelfth floor where his school was located.

As he sat there running over the topics in his mind on what he had planned for class that day, he felt a sudden, but recognizable sensation surfacing. It wasn't the first time he'd been struck with this unexplainable feeling. For the past few years, it would pop up every now and then as if it were living inside him and resurfacing from time to time. It wasn't so much uncomfortable or unpleasant, but it did leave him baffled as to what it meant, why it was there at all and if he could do anything about it. When he tried interpreting how exactly it made him feel, the only solid conclusion he could come up with was when it was there, he felt an undeniable sense that something was…missing.

There was no questioning that the loss of his beloved parents had punched a great hole in his life, and there wasn't a day that passed where he wasn't missing them terribly.

But this was unlike how he felt when missing his mother and father.

No, this unknown, recurring feeling was one that gave rise to a blend of other emotions that frustratingly…he just couldn't put his finger on.

And more often than not, this sea of same emotions seemed to resurface at random.

While strolling through the complex underground mall, he'd feel it building and spreading till next thing he knew, he was faced with a genuine sense of…emptiness. But it went past simply feeling some hollow void within him that he was unable to find an explanation for.

So many other emotions would grab hold of him, leaving him frozen and locked in a state of utter confusion.

_Loneliness._

_Curiosity._

_Desire._

When he spent time trying to sort all these emotions out in his own crowded mind, there was something else he felt more frequently.

_Longing._

There was no use in attempting to clear his head of these lingering emotions, but he wished some light could be shed on what all of this meant. Why was it that when he was walking towards Chelsea High that he felt that swelling sentiment of lonesomeness? Or why was it when he was passing through Grand Blossom Park that a weight of curiosity fell on his shoulders? Yet still, what caused him to feel an increasing sense of desire when he was sitting at home in his underground apartment?

Above all, what was this longing he had so abruptly become introduced to?

Unfortunately, Patrick had not even a single answer to even one of these questions.

In spite of the frustrating confusion of it all, he told himself there was no use dwelling too heavily on it. All he could do was try to make sense of it all the best he could and hope it would all become clear soon enough.

In the next ten minutes, he was showered, dressed and ready to go.

"Well," he said finally, giving Earnest a quick rub under the chin. "I'm off to work, miss. We'll play with that new toy when I get back, alright?" She nuzzled her head into his outstretched palm and with her tiny tongue, gave it a ticklish lick.

He picked up his brown, leather satchel, stepped through the door…and was on his way to another day at Chelsea High.

When he closed the door and started walking down the hallway, he heard the sounds of voices. He realized instantly that the voices were coming from behind him and as he was turning around to see who it was, a small figure rushed past him, catching him by surprise.

"Oh, sorry!" It was a little girl who looked no older than six. Her hair was long, blond and tied back in a braided ponytail, and she wore a pretty flowered dress with a matching headband. On her back was a red-and-pink striped book bag and in her hands she carried a lunch box that displayed a smiling ladybug.

"That's okay," Patrick smiled. If he were to guess, he'd say this little girl were getting ready for her first day of school, what with how excited and in a hurry she was.

"Sweetie, wait up!" a man's laughing voice called.

Running to catch up with the young child was a man who could have been in his forties, with short black hair and blue eyes.

When the girl saw him gaining speed, she took off running again and called back to him, "Run faster, Daddy! Faster!"

"I can't!" Patrick heard the man call back to her, still laughing. "Daddy's not as fast as his little girl."

"The school bus will be here soon!" she exclaimed excitedly. "I don't wanna be late for my first day of school!"

"Don't worry, don't worry," her father assured her. "You won't be late. We've still got lots of time before the bus gets here."

"I'm _all_ ready for school, Daddy!" she told him proudly. "I have crayons and erasers and books and I have an apple for my teacher!"

"Sounds to me like you're ready," he told her, zippering the rest of her book bag up. He then picked up his daughter and lifted her up and over his head and like a bird, soon she was flying.

The little girl then caught sight of a woman striding toward them.

"Mommy, look! I'm flying! See, Mommy?"

"Yes, I can see" she answered, smiling broadly. When the girl's father lowered his daughter back to the ground, the woman walked up to him, wrapped her arms around him and the two embraced with a kiss.

"Big day, today," she proclaimed, holding her husband close.

"Sure is," he replied, holding her close. "She's all ready for school."

"Question is…am I?" she asked him. She stared down at her daughter for a moment, and explained, "She's getting to be so big. Already she's starting preschool today."

"It'll be fine," said her husband encouragingly. "She's growing up, but we'll be there with her."

"Every step of the way," he heard his wife say.

"Can we go outside and wait for the bus?" the girl asked, tugging on her mother's hand. "Please, pleeeeease?"

Her parents exchanged looks and chuckled.

"Sure we can," said her father.

As the three stepped into the elevator and began their rise to the aboveground world, Patrick felt that feeling bubbling inside him again. Ever since he'd left his apartment and heard that voice – a voice bursting with joy, excitement, fun and curiosity – he'd felt it returning. In a way, that sense of loneliness that had just recently taken hold of him seemed more prevalent than it had been previously.

But like every other time, he couldn't quite put his finger on why he was experiencing this at all. What reason was there to feel lonely? He was a teacher and the librarian at a wonderful school, he taught a great class, his students were good kids, he got along with the other staff members…so why was there still a hint of loneliness lurking inside him?

_Why?_

He just didn't know.

Rather than stand there and ponder about it, he cleared his mind of it and sauntered down the now quiet hallway towards the elevator.

* * *

In about ten minutes, Patrick had arrived at the school with still five minutes to spare. He glimpsed over at the large, white building that was Chelsea High and couldn't help wondering again why he'd begun feeling so strangely? He hadn't recalled his life's agenda consisting of feeling odd and unexplainable emotions.

Like before, all he could do was shake it off and focus on the present.

And right then, he had a class to teach.

So he strolled up to the school, his mind now focused on ensuring that he made the best out of that day. For him, each day served as a new opportunity to learn, grow and improve on the previous day, and to strive to be the best possible educator he could.

He was almost at the entrance doors when he heard the distinctive sound of approaching footsteps. Turning, he saw a young woman who looked about eighteen also heading towards the school. At least, Patrick thought she looked about eighteen – she certainly looked like any of the other twelfth graders at the school. She could have been older, but could easily blend in with the rest of the older students of Chelsea High. Her eyes were dropped and from what he could tell, she wore an expression on her face that was a blend of both worry and intense concentration. She had shoulder-length brown hair that was tied back in a practical ponytail, and her eyes were a chestnut brown. She wore a short-sleeved black-and-white plaid shirt, jeans, black flats, and carried a grey-and-black striped shoulder bag. Draped around her neck was a white, cotton scarf.

Patrick noticed the woman shifting her gaze fleetingly in his direction. Her eyes remained on him only momentarily though, and she then continued on towards the front doors, moving in long, purposeful strides. He hadn't the slightest clue as to who she was but it seemed to him that she was a woman on a mission.

When he got inside, Patrick quickly dug into his pocket and pulled out his comm. Scrolling through his list of reminders, he saw that he had an appointment with Dr. Shaw the following evening for his yearly physical. He took that time to open a new page, and add a 7:00pm check-up for Earnest that Friday night with Dr. Shellen.

That was when he heard voices coming from the office of Director Ms. Simmons.

"A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Norm," he heard her saying. "Glad you could make it today. I finished reading through your resume, and while we do have five other applicants trying for this position, I believe in giving all who're interested an equal chance. So it says here that you're twenty-four, possess a Bachelor of Education of Computer Technology and are hoping to join our staff of teachers?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ms. Norm answered, her voice quiet and suggesting a hint of nervousness. "I…I've wanted a job in teaching as long as I can remember. I was one of those kids growing up who really liked school and I spent so much time on computers. There was just something about computers and learning and teaching that made me feel…like I was capable of achieving anything. Growing up, I couldn't see myself as being anything other than a teacher. I love helping and learning and…and really challenging myself."

Patrick hadn't expected that. Here, he'd thought she looked no older then the twelfth graders there at the school but really…she could soon possibly be landing a job as a teacher. How wrong he'd been!

Seeing the woman sitting there in the office, it brought him back to the time when he'd been sitting in the very same seat across from Ms. Simmons. How could he forget how nervous, yet hopeful he'd felt while being in that immaculate room that belonged to the one woman who would decide if he was to become a teacher there?

He wondered if this latest applicant – Ms. Norm – would have luck on her side and be given the job as the newest Education of Computer Technology teacher. But Ms. Simmons had mentioned five others who were also interested in obtaining this teaching position.

It was clear there was some competition.

As to who would become Chelsea High's newest teacher, that decision would lie in the hands of Ms. Simmons alone.

Patrick tucked his comm back in his pocket and started walking towards the stairs that would bring him up to the third floor and to his classroom. When he was just a few steps away from entering the classroom that had become his own, he flashed back to the image of Ms. Simmons and Ms. Norm. Anyone could have plainly heard from her voice how badly she wanted this job. He didn't know anything about who the other applicants were and what their stories held, but he found himself wanting it to work out for the young woman.

After all, he too knew what it was like to sit in the office of the person who was either going to offer you the job…or send you on your way.

 _Good luck_ , thought Patrick, and stepped into his classroom.


	3. Meeting Mr. Mac

"There's no question, Ms. Norm," Ms. Simmons announced, handing the woman back her envelope. "That you possess a passion for the world of teaching, computers and technology in particular. While observing you interfacing with my hologram here, I was impressed with how swiftly and comfortably you were able to access the information I requested of you. That is one of the many skills we look for when searching for potential teachers. We seek out those we feel will be most competent in their ability to pass on their knowledge to others, and you appear quite competent."

"Thank you very much," Ms. Norm said, doing her best to maintain eye contact. As nervous as she was, she had to refrain from letting her eyes wander, which too often happened when she was nervous. She wanted to present herself as confident as possible, without sending out unintentional signs of doubts or insecurities. So she bit her tongue and waited patiently for the Director to reach the end of her speech.

"In terms of the job itself," Ms. Simmons went on, taking a small sip of ice-cold water. "You're the fifth person I've interviewed for the position. This week, I met with four others who also wanted to become teachers here but after now interviewing you, I feel no need to give it further consideration."

Ms. Norm swallowed hard, her mind racing into overdrive. She wasn't going to give her the job. Here, she'd thought maybe she'd really have a chance at teaching what she loved but now…well, now it looked to be all falling apart. She felt the tension building inside her, and couldn't keep from biting her lip.

"What I've seen here today," Ms. Simmons began, flipping through the stack of papers on her mahogany desk. "Happened about four years ago. It was during the last week of August, and one of our teachers here was retiring. Of course, we then had to embark on a search for someone to fill that position. So one by one, I went through some interviews but it wasn't till I met with the last applicant that I knew."

"Knew what?" Ms. Norm asked, her gaze darting to the stack of papers.

"Who I wanted joining our staff," was the Director's answer. "I knew the moment I'd finished interviewing this person that they would make an excellent addition to our teaching staff. He displayed all the qualities we look for in a teacher here at Chelsea High: intelligent, confident, patient, hard working, determined and passionate. Because of this, I didn't hesitate to hire this young man right on the spot with no further questioning. That man's now been working at the school for the past four years and he's settled in quite nicely here."

She paused before adding, "I've been at the school long enough to know when the right person has found us. Call it a sixth sense, if you will, but I never second guess my decisions when I'm struck with that feeling."

At this point, the young woman felt like she'd been holding her breath in anticipation for the past five minutes. She wasn't sure if she ought to say something or remain sitting there with her legs crossed while praying they wouldn't start shaking.

"As for you, Ms. Norm," the Director said, glancing up at the diamond-shaped clock up on the wall. "I can say with certainty that we've reached the end of the interviewing process."

But what exactly did she mean by that? Was good news about to be spilled or was she about to be told that she just didn't meet all their qualifications?

Ms. Simmons had just about mastered the art of reading people's thoughts. By merely studying one's face, observing one's body language, listening to one's tone of voice, she could pretty much work out what they were thinking.

"I can assure you, Ms. Norm, there's no need to feel nervous. You should be proud of what you've accomplished up to this point."

"I-I'm sorry," said the woman, fidgeting in her seat "I just thought, well…I wasn't sure if I was good enough. I don't mean to worry and all, but I'm just a worry wart. Still trying to work on that."

"I understand how you feel," Ms. Simmons commented. "I was often like that myself growing up, fretting and doubting and jumping ahead unnecessarily. The fact that you admit to that illustrates to me that you care a great deal about this career. Hiding one's fears gives me the message that they aren't able to express them to others. That's one of the traits I picked up about you during the interview: you're not afraid to discuss weaknesses or personal struggles."

Ms. Norm blinked, thrown slightly by that response. "Oh, well, thank you, Ms. Simmons. I wasn't sure if that would go against me or—"

"Oh, no, dear," Mrs. Simmons interrupted with a small chuckle. "Our expectations aren't that strict. Every person in this world will confront some kind of struggle in their life, but that doesn't make it a weakness…it makes it a challenge that can be overcome."

"I suppose that makes sense," Ms. Norm remarked. _Do I really have a chance though? Am I just hoping she'll give me a chance? Maybe I'm not what they're looking for._

"Well, I won't keep you sitting here any longer," the Director said, handing the young woman what appeared to be a booklet. "I'll finish up by recommending that you keep hold of this. You'll want to have it handy."

When Ms. Norm examined the first page, she saw it was some kind of schedule, with a list of important dates, locations and other activities. Flipping through the rest of the pages, each presented similarly.

"What is it for?" she asked Ms. Simmons, wrinkling her brow in puzzlement.

With a smile, the Director answered, "That's your schedule, Ms. Norm. You'll be starting tomorrow morning at eight o'clock sharp."

Ms. Norm looked back and forth between the Director and the booklet, replaying those unexpected words through in her head.

"Did you just say I start tomorrow?"

"That's right," said Ms. Simmons. With the press of a button, she then activated her hologram platform. Directly in front of her, a holographic image appeared that outlined the entire school from top to bottom.

"D-does this mean you want to hire me?"

"You're already hired, dear," Ms. Simmons replied, giving her a genuine smile. "Like I said, I know when I've found just who I'm looking for and I'm positive you'll be an appropriate addition to our staff. So I would like to say, congratulations…and welcome to Chelsea High."

The director held her hand out and without a word, Ms. Norm took it. All the while, she felt her mind going numb at the realization of what was happening. It felt odd to think how nervous she'd been just thirty minutes ago and how all those doubts and worries were now just…washing away.

"T-thank you," was all she could say. The rest of the words kept intertwining with one another in a jumbled mess.

"No need to thank me," the Director told her, now turning her attention to the holographic image of Chelsea High. "Your academic and personal accomplishments stood out for me and you seem like a likeable young woman. I've no doubt you'll make for a wonderful teacher in our Education of Computer Technology department."

"I don't really know what to say, other than…thank you again," Ms. Norm said, carefully placing the pages in her bag. "Guess I just need to wait for it sink in."

"Certainly," said Ms. Simmons. "Seems like it's always what catches us by surprise that takes longest to set in."

"Is there anything else you needed from me? Records, information, anything I'm missing?"

"No, I would say we covered just about everything," the Director responded, pointing to the holographic display in front of her. "Though I would like to take a moment to show you where you'll be at for the rest of the day. Before you start your first day of teaching tomorrow, I feel it would be highly beneficial for you to shadow one of the other teachers. That way, you'll see firsthand the kind of program we have here at the school and will allow you to better familiarize yourself with the technological features we have."

"Yeah, that'd be great," said the newly hired teacher while buttoning up her bag.

"Aside now from you," the Director explained, directing her focus to the hologram once more. "We have two Computer Technology teachers. You'll be teaching our eleventh graders and the two others we have here are Mr. Ross and Mr. Mac. The twelfth graders are taught by Mr. Ross, who's been teaching at the school for twenty years now, and Mr. Mac teaches the tenth graders. Until you recently joined our staff today, Patrick was our youngest teacher and while he's only been here for four years, he's quite a fantastic teacher. As for shadowing one of them, Mr. Ross actually has an exam scheduled for his class today, so I'm thinking I'm going to have you shadowing Mr. Mac for today. He's just finishing up his morning class right now, but he'll be teaching again this afternoon, so I think that would be perfect for you to spend the hour with him."

"Okay, sure," said Ms. Norm, studying the holographic recreation of the school. "That'd be great. Where would I find his classroom?"

"Third floor is where you'll find him. It's the first room when you step off the elevators, so you can't miss it. It's almost twelve now, so he and the other teachers will be heading off to lunch till one. His afternoon class starts right at one, so you'll be with him for that hour, and then you're free to go. You're welcome to stay and tour the building if you like. It's up to you."

"Thank you again," Ms. Norm said, rising up out of her chair. She shook the Director's hand once again. "I really appreciate it."

Ms. Simmons acknowledged this with a nod. "I hope you'll enjoy working here."

"Thanks, I'm sure I will."

Before leaving the office, Ms. Simmons told her, "You're more than welcome to join the others up in the lunch room by the way. I'm sure they'd love to meet the school's newest teacher."

Ms. Norm gave a little smile, nodded and exited the large office.

The last thing she heard was the Director calling to her, "Have fun shadowing!"

The new teacher had only been strolling through the long halls for a few minutes when she knew it was definitely time for lunch. The sounds of chattering voices along with occasional laughing were a dead give-away. That, and the fact that groups of men and women were all traveling in the same direction. She herself was now feeling rather hungry and knew she ought to have a bite to eat before completing her shadowing later that afternoon. While she'd forgotten to ask the Director where the Teacher's Lounge was located, she didn't think she'd have much difficulty in finding it. Pretty much every teacher was already heading there anyway; all she'd need to do was follow the crowd.

It was a short enough trip to the lounge room, as it was only on the next floor up and advancing down the hall, she could hear what room was generating all the chattering. It was the fourth room down from the main elevator, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than the lunchroom. On the wall above the door was a mounted sign that read: TEACHER'S LOUNGE.

Before opening the door and entering, she hesitated briefly. She wasn't a hundred percent sure as to why she was suddenly feeling unsure, but she was all the same. It was somewhat like leaving home for the first time, or going on a first date, or walking into a job interview. Naturally, it wasn't uncommon for one to feel a little nervous about meeting new people. The one question that would regularly pop up was: are they going to like me? Usually, there wasn't any concrete reason as to why she shouldn't be liked but that didn't stop her from fearing that might be the case.

Such was the life of a worrywart.

Either way, though, she'd have to try and hope she'd be liked at this school, seeing as these would be the people she'd be working alongside!

When she opened the door, the sound of multiple voices all talking, chatting and laughing at jokes seemed ten times louder. It was like the place was buzzing with excitement, though she wasn't a stranger to the feeling. Any chance to sit down and enjoy some food was reason alone to talk loudly, and a relaxing break didn't hurt much either.

As for the lounge itself, it was much grander in size than the three-dimensional image shown on Ms. Simmon's holographic platform. There were plenty of sitting areas – leather chairs seated around wooden, circular tables, comfortable leather couches and even a few brightly colored beanbag chairs. Various eye-catching paintings lined the walls wherever she looked – an evening sunset, the Statue of Liberty, a lion's face, a ship sailing across a vast sea. If she were to give this room a different name, she'd call it the Teacher's Gallery. Just as striking were the walls themselves that were painted in repeating patterns of trees. Even more incredible was how each of the trees seemed to morph into the next, creating the illusion that they were all one single, yet interconnected tree.

As she stood there taking in the colourful surroundings, she heard a woman's voice say, "I don't remember seeing your face before."

Ms. Norm blinked and then noticed standing beside her was a woman who looked to be in her fifties. Her eyes were a mixture of green and blue, her hair was short, brown and fell just below her ears and she was dressed in a wool sweater, jeans and simple, black heels. Around her neck was a necklace with a single, shining blue stone.

"Oh, uh, no I'm new here," Ms. Norm said, bringing herself back to reality.

"Ah, so you're the new teacher then?" the woman asked eagerly.

Ms. Norm nodded silently.

"Lovely, well it's nice to meet you!" the older woman said, giving her a friendly smile. "My name's Mrs. Watson, but please, call me Judy. And congratulations on getting the job! Computer Technology. Can't say I'd be the best person for that kind of teaching. My area of expertise has always been Science. I hardly know how to maneuverer my way around those fancy computers. They're much too complex for me, but I know the younger ones seem to think they're pretty neat. Do you start your teaching today?"

"Oh, no," said Ms. Norm quickly. "I'm just shadowing today, but I'll be starting tomorrow."

"Ah, I see," said Judy. "Well, that should make for a fun afternoon then! Well, I won't keep you, dear. I know you probably want to eat your lunch and be on your way. I hope you'll like it here and I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."

"Thanks," Ms. Norm said, smiling. "Nice meeting you."

"Likewise," replied the older teacher. She then joined a group of four other teachers – two men and two women – who were already engaged in active discussion.

Ms. Norm stood there a moment longer, staring around the crowded room while trying to spot an empty seat. She wondered if she'd be lucky enough to even find an empty seat; wherever she looked, there were people grouped together while chatting and swapping stories.

She was all set to leave and go find somewhere else to eat…when her eyes fell on a leather couch at the far, back end of the lounge. Sitting there was a young guy who could have been in his twenties, with longish brown hair and brown eyes. He was dressed casually in a blue, short-sleeved shirt and jeans. On the small coffee table in front of him was a bottle of water, a bowl of salad and a small Tupperware container.

It occurred to her that maybe this guy wanted to sit alone. Would he not want her sharing that couch with him? She didn't want to feel like she was invading on his space.

All these thoughts popped into mind, but she reached only one conclusion.

_I worry too much._

Most of the teachers at the school seemed fairly friendly and welcoming, so she doubted they'd mind her sitting amongst them. As she wasn't familiar enough with the layout of the school, she didn't want to spend time wandering around trying to find somewhere else to eat. She wanted to have a quick bite before she'd be spending the next hour shadowing.

When she sauntered over to the couch, she saw the young guy was focused on his comm. It was when he reached out for the bottle of water on the table that he noticed someone standing there. All of a sudden, she found herself feeling slightly awkward, and more than a little shy. In that split second, it crossed her mind that she could have eaten her lunch in the hall, or outside, but she was here now.

"Oh, I didn't know someone was standing there," said the guy with surprise.

Ms. Norm didn't know how to respond. The awkwardness closing in on her had a little something to do with that. All she could do was stand there in silence.

"I remember seeing you," he went on, now recognizing the woman. "I saw you in Ms. Simmon's office when I walked in. That was you, right?"

She nodded, the words hiding in her throat.

"I, uh…I'm a new Teacher here."

"I thought I recognized you," the guy answered. "Congratulations!" He held out his hand in a friendly gesture, adding, "I'm Patrick by the way. It's nice to meet you."

She snapped herself back into focus and reached out to shake his head.

"I'm Amber Norm. Nice to meet you too."

"Did you want to sit down?" he asked her. He went on, quickly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to have all this couch to myself. You're more than welcome to take a seat."

"Yeah, sure," she said with a small smile. She took a seat next to him, setting her shoulder bag on the floor beside the table. She joked, adding, "Kind of busy in here."

"It _is_ crowded, isn't it?" he agreed with a chuckle. "It's like a party of Teachers in here."

There was a brief pause, and then she heard Patrick asking curiously, "So you're the new Education of Computer Technology teacher?"

Amber nodded, telling him, "Ms. Simmon's hired me this morning. I…I didn't even think I'd get hired. She said five others applied for this position so I just assumed she'd pick someone else."

Patrick smiled and with a little shrug, replied, "There must have been something about you she liked. She says she always knows when she's found what she's looking for, and as she's been at the school longer than anyone else, she must know what she's doing."

"She said it's like a sixth sense."

"Can't say I have that myself," said Patrick, taking a sip of water. "But I'm sure if anyone in school has a sixth sense, it's her."

He then turned to Amber, asking, "So do you start teaching today, then?"

"Oh, no," she said quickly. "She said I'll start teaching tomorrow. I'm just shadowing today."

"Well, that should be interesting," Patrick remarked. "Especially with the computers. It gives you a more hands on experience than other courses. Not to say that there aren't hands on activities with science, math, because there are. But computer technology just lets you do so much more besides reading and listening."

"That's true," she said. "Should be interesting."

"So who are you shadowing?"

"She said I'd be with Mr. Mac. Do you know if he's here at all? I don't really know anyone yet and there's so many people here."

He then broke out in a big smile that caused her cheeks to redden slightly.

"Well, you're in the right spot then!" he assured her. "I'm Mr. Mac."

She smiled back, but wanted to mentally kick herself for letting her cheeks get flushed. How embarrassing would that be if he picked up on that? Her only hope was that it was so brief that it wasn't even noticeable. The question was, had he noticed?

"She said Mr. Ross's class was having an exam today, so she thought it would be better if I shadow you."

"Of course, I should have seen that!" he said, chuckling to himself. "Mr. Ross and I are the only two that teach Computer Tech. Must have slipped my mind that his class was having a test. Well, hopefully I can help give you an idea of what's involved in the course and how it's structured. It should be a pretty laid-back afternoon. Since we're only into September, we're still covering the basic concepts of computer interfacing. Today, I'll be introducing the concept of Three-Dimensional Searching. It should be a pretty relaxing class. I'll let them explore the technique a little and help them if there's any questions."

"How many students are in your class?"

"Twenty," was Patrick's answer. "When I first started teaching here, I had a class of thirty-five students. I had my hands full that year, what with how large of a class it was, but they were good kids. That's one thing I love about teaching this course. Most students like getting to use the computers. It's a nice break from calculus."

Amber threw in with a light chuckle, "I don't blame them. I never liked math. All the equations, formulas, memorizing…it just wasn't for me."

"I hear you," said Patrick in agreement. "I might not have cared much for math but I couldn't get enough of computers. And I always liked history. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but I loved getting to dig through the past and having access to the computers made it that much easier. It just gave you this sense of such…"

" _Confidence_?" Amber offered, before he could finish.

Patrick shifted his gaze and locked eyes with her momentarily. It was like in some odd, unexplainable way, she had read his mind.

"Yeah," said Patrick softly, half speaking to himself and half to Amber. "Confidence."

The two shared eye contact for a few seconds, neither quite realizing that they were now staring in uninterrupted silence at the other. For some reason that Amber couldn't comprehend even if she'd thought long and hard about it, their eyes were communicating in their own, secret language. What words they were exchanging, she couldn't even begin to guess. All she knew was that her eyes were fixed on Patrick's, and all she could think while sitting there was: _what am I doing?_

Similar thoughts raced through Patrick's mind, who also found himself unable to avert his gaze. In his own realm of confusion, he wondered what had caused him to so suddenly stare at this woman with an expression that reminded him of a little boy who'd discovered something…unique. Like stumbling across a special painting, a captivating book, or an unforgettable movie, his unblinking eyes were frozen in place.

Like Amber, he too was thinking: _what am I doing?_

It was a familiar voice that pulled Patrick back into reality.

"Well, isn't that cute!" a man's voice commented jokingly. "The two newbies getting acquainted."

Amber blinked, and turned to see a tall guy with short, black hair, blue eyes and a big smile approaching them. He looked about forty, and like most of the other teachers, he was dressed simply in a blue V-neck sweater jeans.

"Ha ha, very funny, Matt," said Patrick, throwing him an amused smile. "So even after four years, that still classifies me as a newbie, huh?"

"Afraid so, pal," said Matt with a shrug. His face then broke out in one of his usual grins, and he gave Patrick a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry though. Few more years and you'll be in the big league with the rest of us."

"Good to know," said Patrick, and he too broke out in a smile. "Amber, this is Matt Brenner. He's the tenth grade Chemistry teacher. Matt, this is Amber Norm. She's the new Computer Technology teacher."

"A pleasure to meet you!" said Matt, holding his hand out to shake. "It must be very exciting."

"It is," Amber admitted. "Kind of overwhelming too, but, what isn't the first time?"

Matt let out a laugh and said in agreement, "Couldn't agree more myself. I was terrified my first day but after a few weeks, I wondered what I'd ever been afraid of. So are you teaching today?"

"No, I start tomorrow. I'm just shadowing today."

"She'll be with me this afternoon," Patrick explained to him. "We'll just be going over some of the basics, Three-Dimensional Searching. So it should be a pretty easy-going class. Mr. Ross's class is scheduled for a test, so it made sense that she come with me. Observing a test wouldn't be much fun."

"Well, that ought to be fun," Matt remarked in a jesting tone. "Getting to spend the day with our youngest teacher. Not a bad way to start the new job I suppose."

"You're hilarious, Matt," said Patrick with a shake of his head. "You know that, right?"

"Absolutely!" the chemistry teacher replied. Before heading to one of the other tables, he said to them both, "Have fun later!"

Patrick shook his head again, smiled and said to Amber, "That's Matt, for you. Always joking, and finding almost everything funny. He's a good guy, though."

"So he teaches chemistry?" she asked.

"Yup," answered Patrick. "Anything to do with acids and bases, and molecules, and chemical reactions, that's Matt's domain. I can respect the importance of chemistry but computers will always be my speciality."

"Same here," Amber concurred. "Computers all the way."

"Back when I took it in high school, I was always so hesitant."

"How come?"

"I was always afraid something would blow up in my face," was Patrick's humorous response. "Or I'd catch something on fire, or I'd catch on fire. Basically, anything that could go wrong in the chemistry lab, I feared _would_ happen."

Amber couldn't resist letting out a light giggle as she asked, "Really?"

"I kid you not," said Patrick, smiling. "That's how I knew chemistry wasn't for me."

"Were you okay?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah, I was fine," he told her, taking a sip of water. "No explosions, no fires, no broken beakers, no spilled chemicals, though let's just say I felt a lot safer around computers."

Patrick thumbed his comm to check the time and saw there was forty minutes remaining before his afternoon class.

"I better get eating," he announced. "Class starts in forty minutes. Don't want to go teaching on an empty stomach."

He reached for the bowl of salad on the table and poured on a creamy Caesar dressing before taking a hungry bite. Up till then, Amber hadn't even realized the rumbling and gurgling that had been going on in her stomach. She was pretty sure having been preoccupied with talking to Patrick had had a little something to do with that. If not for Patrick having just mentioned the time, she very well might have gone on talking with him as if she had all the time in the world.

 _It's nothing_ , she silently convinced herself. _He's just being nice and…and I'm just here to shadow and learn what I can._

As she opened her bag and dug through with her hand, a baffled expression came over her face. She looked down, searched again and then realized what she hadn't done that morning. Having been so nervous and focused on preparing for the all-important interview, there was one thing she hadn't taken the time to do, though she'd been pretty sure she had.

Patrick noticed the change in her expression and set down his fork.

"Something wrong?" he asked her.

"I…I'm am idiot," she blurted out. She set down her bag, pulled out her wallet and dug out a ten-dollar bill. "I'll have to go downstairs."

"Downstairs? Why?"

"I forgot to pack a lunch," she said, embarrassed. "I must have been in such a hurry this morning, I just forget to make one. I could have sworn I packed one but…nothing's in the bag. Is there a cafeteria downstairs?"

"Yes," said Patrick. "But you don't need to go down there."

"No, I do," she told him, getting up out of her seat. "I gotta buy something. It's not a big deal."

"No, save your money," he told her. "You don't need to go buy a lunch."

"Well…I kind of need to eat."

"I know," said Patrick, and patted the seat next to him. "Sit down."

Confused and not quite sure why Patrick figured she wouldn't need to go purchase a lunch, she slowly took a seat back down on the couch. Without a word, she saw him reach out to the table and next thing she knew, he was handing her the small Tupperware container. Her reaction was to look down at the container with a puzzled look but when she returned her gaze to Patrick's…she saw that big, friendly, genuine smile once more on his face.

Without meaning to or even knowing it was happening, her cheeks flushed the color of scarlet.

"You can share lunch with me," he offered kindly.

She looked back up at Patrick, then down at the container, and held it out to him.

"I-I can't," she argued, dropping her gaze. "That's really nice of you, Patrick, but…that's your lunch."

"Yes, you can," he said, handing it back to her, the smile still so evident on his face. "What's wrong with sharing a lunch?"

"I-It just wouldn't be right," she went on, her voice growing quieter. "You shouldn't have to give up your lunch just because I couldn't remember to make my own."

"I want you to take it," Patrick told her, and slid the bottle of water closer towards her. "You can have some of my water too, if you want."

"I don't know," she answered, unsure. "I just…I just don't feel right taking your lunch."

"You're not taking my lunch, Amber," he corrected, that kindness still so palpable in his voice. "We're _sharing_ it."

And for those few seconds, Amber found herself hearing his voice so much clearer than she had the last twenty minutes they'd sat there engaged in conversation. In some bizarre way that somehow still made absolute sense, it was like she could feel the warmth of his voice, reaching out to her with outstretched hands. So many words rushed to mind when his voice found her listening ears – comfort, relaxation, confidence, generosity and serenity. Like a whispering wind, there was a certain calmness to his voice

But above all, the kindness couldn't have been more perceptible in his voice. Like before, she once more fell under that unexpected, but unavoidable spell that forced her eyes to meet his own. In a way, it was like she didn't have a choice – her eyes had a mind all on their own. There was just something about getting lost in that soft, yet dark brown of his eyes that felt so…comforting.

Alluring even.

Finally, she realized that Patrick genuinely meant what he'd said, especially as he seemed so intent on sharing his lunch with her. She hadn't wanted to feel like she was taking his lunch from him and she still didn't…but how could she say no? It was all too obvious from the smile on his face and the tone of his voice that he was offering to share his lunch with her not because he felt he had to…but because he wanted to.

How could she possibly say no?

She gave him an appreciative smile, telling him, "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it," Patrick told her sincerely. "Do you mind if I ask you something, though?"

"Sure."

With the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of his lips, he asked, "Do you like peanut butter and jelly?"

A laugh escaped Amber as she replied, "Yeah, I like PB and J."

"I'm usually not a big PB and J kind of guy," said Patrick, helping himself to another bite of salad. "But it is quick and convenient. Just wanted to make sure I wasn't giving you something you wouldn't like."

"Oh, that's okay," she assured him, removing the lid of the Tupperware container. "I'm not really a picky eater anyway. Except with seafood."

"Seafood," Patrick repeated. A disgusted look formed on his face, as he uttered, "Can't say I like that stuff."

"And it smells."

"Badly," Patrick added. "Very, _very_ badly."

The two shot each other a look, were silent for the briefest moment…and then burst out laughing.

"Yeah, that's one thing I can say with certainty that I don't like," said Patrick.

"I just…can't stand how it smells," said Amber, taking an eager bite of the sandwich.

"Can't argue with that," said Patrick. "It's some pretty smelly stuff."

After taking a bite of the sandwich, Amber was surprised at how delicious this simple, yet tasty lunch was. For being only a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, it sure tasted like something with a sweet flavour that lingered in her mouth for minutes.

"This is delicious," she said, taking another bite.

Patrick watched her curiously and with an amused smile, replied, "Glad you like it."

"It's just so good," she went on, the sweet, thick jelly coating her taste buds. "You must have a secret ingredient or something."

Patrick laughed and answered, "No secret ingredient. Just bread, jelly and crunchy peanut butter." He shrugged and joked, "Maybe I just did an exceptional job today with lunch."

"Well, whatever you did, it's delicious."

"Thank you. I've got an apple and banana in there too by the way, so feel free to help yourself."

For the next thirty minutes, the two teachers ate and talked more about their pasts and what had led them on the path of wanting to teach. Patrick went into detail about having taken many trips to the local library as a kid, and always wanting to use the computers. As he spent so much time in the library during his school years, he figured it was a place he was destined to work in. That, and the fact that he enjoyed school growing up were two indicators that education was likely a terrific fit for him.

Amber's story was similar, in that she too had always been amazed at the world of computers, and teaching. As a kid, she'd had a bedroom full of toys that she'd pretend was a classroom of students, and she was their teacher. She'd even given each of the toys their own paper and pencil to help transform her room into that of a classroom.

"That's creative," said Patrick. "Any of the toys ever misbehave?"

Amber chuckled at the remark and said, "I had a few rowdy toys but most were pretty good."

"It's weird looking back," said Patrick, softly leaning back in the couch. "It feels like just yesterday but at the same time…it doesn't."

"I know," she answered thoughtfully. "Hard to decide if it feels like yesterday or a hundred years ago."

The two had finished eating twenty minutes ago and were now spending the remainder of the lunch break talking, thinking, and reflecting back on their pasts.

"So what other classes did you like in high school?" Amber asked him.

"English and History I really liked," she heard him say. "I loved reading and English was the only class that allowed time for that. And I love learning about the past and exploring ancient stories and people, and history dealt with a lot of that."

Patrick paused briefly, and then asked, "Any others you liked?"

"Art was one of my favourites."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I've always loved drawing and painting and whatnot. It's one of the few hobbies I didn't grow out of."

"I was _terrible_ at art!" exclaimed Patrick, shaking his head as he recalled his memories of high school art.

"I'm sure you weren't _that_ bad. People are just their own worst critics."

"No, I was pretty bad," he answered, running his fingers through his long brown hair. 'Good thing we only needed one credit in art. Ask me to draw a straight line and I'd draw a curve. Or back when I was little, ask me to color inside the lines and what do I do? I'd color outside the lines. When it came to art, I was quite incompetent."

"Oh, I'm sure you weren't that bad, Patrick," Amber said again, handing him back his Tupperware container with a smile.

He smiled back, telling her, "Well, it's a good thing I learned early on that I had a knack for computers because I sure wouldn't have made a living as an artist! That would have been disastrous."

"You'll have to draw for me sometime," Amber suggested, zippering up her bag. "Because I guarantee you're not as bad as you claim to be."

"If you like," said Patrick. In a humorously dramatic tone, he threw in, "But I'll forewarn you…art and I do _not_ go well together."

"We'll see," she said, the two exchanging smiles.

Before they could say anything further, Patrick glanced down at his comm, saw the time and quickly rose to his feet.

"Five minutes till class starts," he announced. His brown, leather satchel was once more at his side.

As Amber sat there taking in the sight of this young teacher, it struck her how well put together he appeared. While he wasn't dressed formally or wearing a tie like some teachers preferred to, he looked every bit as confident and determined as any teacher she'd ever met. Something about the way he carried himself made her convinced that if there was a teacher ready to take on any challenge, any hurdle or any wrinkle the world had to offer…it was Patrick Mac.

If she had to admit, sitting there staring up at this accomplished young teacher who had a smile that all but lit up his face…she thought she'd never stumbled across a more handsome, intriguing man.

Patrick's brown eyes fell on her as he asked her eagerly, "Coming?"

She rose to her feet, threw her bag over her shoulder and declared, "Of course."


	4. Shadowing Patrick

As Patrick and Amber began heading out of the lunch room, they caught sight of dozens of students already making their way down the congested hall, their bags over their shoulders and their comms in their hands.

"I might see a movie this weekend," they heard one girl saying.

"I gotta work on that project soon," another guy said. "It's due in a week and there's still a ton to do."

"I got a new dog yesterday!" one girl exclaimed. "You guys have to come by and see it. He's so cute!"

"I'm heading to Florida next week on vacation. Gone for a whole week."

"And so begins one of the busiest times of the day," Patrick remarked, Amber striding alongside of him. "The end of lunch…and beginning of afternoon classes."

"I can see why," she answered, the sounds of multiple voices and footsteps and beeping comms echoing throughout the hall. There was no doubting the large number of students that attended Chelsea High. When there was a few thousand students in the school, the place was bound to get a little crowded, especially when everyone was heading this way and that to their own class. It was like heading down a road of heavy traffic, only with people instead of cars.

"What floor's your classroom on?" she asked him.

"Third floor," Patrick told her, the two starting up the white, spiral staircase. "Top of the school. The only classes taught up here are Computer Tech and Math. Everything else is downstairs, so it's usually busiest on those floors."

As they were making their way up the twisting staircase, Amber's eyes shifted upward, noticing how many stairs they had yet to climb. If she had to guess, she'd say there were close to fifty stairs, possibly more. It was hard to count while she climbed, but she felt fifty was as good a guess as any.

Patrick noticed her surprised expression, and chuckled lightly.

"Quite the climb, huh?"

"How many stairs are there anyway?" was all she could say, still staring upward. Already she was feeling a little tired.

"Exactly fifty."

"Lot of stairs," she joked, immediately realizing her assigned classroom would be right up here along with Patrick's and the other teachers. She felt surely all the constant climbing up and down, down and up would tire her out within only a couple of days. Of course it would, if already she felt that tingling in her legs that only came when attempting a big climb like this.

"No arguments there," said Patrick, throwing her a smile. "Guess we could have made things easier and taken the elevator. Probably would have made for a shorter trip."

"I'd say!" she told him, but had to laugh. Thankfully, the two were nearly at the top.

"I would have taken the elevator, but odds are we would have had to wait. I figured it'd be quicker just to walk. It's not too bad once you've climbed these stairs everyday. You get used to it."

"I'd hate to try this with a heavy bag. I'd probably die on my way up."

Patrick broke out in an amused smile, telling her, "No, can't say that would be much fun. Good thing we don't use books often. Teachers and students can access whatever they need right on the computers. Each room's got its own set of computers, so the most students would need to keep on hand are any printed assignments or handouts they might have, but most of the work is done right in the classrooms."

When they reached the top, it was amazing the difference between the traffic of students seen on the previous two floors compared to up here. Here and there, a few teachers wandered by, heading to their classrooms in preparation for their upcoming lecture. Groups of students strolled into various different rooms, heading into either Computer Tech or Math.

"My rooms's at the far end," Patrick explained, leading the way. "We're almost there, I promise."

"Another fifty stairs and you might have lost me," she commented.

"Funnily enough, I haven't had any students skip my class, so I take that as a good sign. Maybe my class isn't boring enough for them to not show up."

"Well that's good," she answered, agreeing. "Kind of hard to skip and get away with it when there's only twenty in the class."

"True," said Patrick. "If someone's missing, I can pretty much tell."

"Should be fun shadowing today," she added. "It'll be good to see how the course runs, since I'll be teaching soon. I just hope I'll be ready."

"Don't worry," he assured her, the two pausing in the hall momentarily. "It seems like a lot at first, adjusting to a new schedule and getting the swing of things and all, but you'll do just fine."

"I hope," said Amber, averting her gaze to the room at the far end. A few last students were filing in while chatting amongst themselves.

"And if you ever need help with anything, just give me a shout. Your room will be up here with mine, so I won't be far. Seems like we'll be next-door neighbours up here."

"Thanks," she said appreciatively.

"Well, hope I don't disappoint," she heard him say. "Can't remember the last time I had someone shadow me. Come to think of it, you're the first who'll be shadowing me. Hope I can put on a good show."

"You will," she told him with certainty. "More than I could anyway."

Patrick checked his comm, looked back to Amber and asked with an eager smile, " _Ready_?"

"Ready as you are."

When they arrived at the classroom, before entering, Ms. Norm glanced up at the top of the doorway. Written in bold black letters on a golden, brass frame that was centered near the top of the door read: MR. MAC. Her mind shot forward to what the following days might offer, and if she would be given her own name plate.

She couldn't spend time dwelling on it though because it was now was time to get a close-up, first-hand look at what it was like to be a teacher of Computer Technology at Chelsea High.

So with those thoughts in mind, she followed Patrick into his classroom.

Right away, her eyes took in how large of a room it was, with the ceiling soaring right over her head. Focusing on the walls, her eyes seemed to be taking in ten different colors – sapphire blue, emerald green, sunset orange, scarlet red and midnight black. It was a mesmerizing display what with the grayish background and swirls of radiant colors that danced and morphed into one another, as if they were alive. On either side of the room were two glass rectangular windows that overlooked the outside, grassy grounds of the school. Situated in the corners were areca palms, their green leaves adding yet another touch of color to the classroom.

She remembered reading of countless years ago when classrooms looked nothing like what they did today. Back then, walls were of boring shades of whites, greys or tans, and there was nothing interesting to look at other than windows, walls and the floor.

How times had changed!

Classrooms today were now thriving on color and energy, built with the intention to inspire learning and knowledge.

A few seconds in this classroom and she realized Patrick's was no exception. It wasn't a room that made you feel like you'd doze off in, or want to be anywhere else but there. It was alive with colour, spacious and contained computers that held everything and anything one wanted to know about Earth's history.

After just one minute of glancing around, she was looking forward to shadowing Mr. Mac.

"Afternoon everyone!" Patrick announced. He set his leather satchel down on his impeccably tidy desk, and then turned back and faced his class. "Today, we'll be starting a new topic– Three-Dimensional Searching. Joining us here today is Amber Norm, the school's newest Computer Technology teacher. She'll be doing some shadowing today and tomorrow, she'll begin her first day of teaching. Today will be a great opportunity for her to observe how the class runs, especially with the use of the computers."

Patrick motioned to his desk and said to Amber, "You can sit at my desk, Amber. Feel free to take notes and if you want to jump in and help out, don't be shy. Today will be pretty straightforward so I'm okay either way, if you'd like to just watch for today, or if you want to help out."

"Sounds good," she replied quietly, taking a seat. She was amazed even at the size of Patrick's polished, wooden desk, which wrapped around her like a half-circle. The black swivel chair was comfortable and sitting down, she seemed to sink right into it.

As she dug out her laptop and placed it on top of the table, her eyes fell on a small picture frame just to her right. It was a photo of a small orange kitten with a tiny, pink nose and sparkling green eyes. Around its neck was a bright red collar. Beneath the picture in italic handwriting was the name Earnest.

She wondered if it was Patrick's cat.

Another larger picture frame was situated on the left side. It was a photo of a man and woman who were both smiling, the man with his arm wrapped around the woman's shoulder. The two couldn't have looked happier. Under this picture in similar handwriting in golden were the words: Mom and Dad.

"Does anyone remember what we talked about last class?" Patrick began, addressing the class.

A girl in the front row with long brown hair and blue eyes raised her hand.

"Yes, Em?"

"Computer Preparation," she answered.

"Right, Em," said Patrick. In front of him on a small round table was Patrick's personal computer. After pressing a small blue button, a pleasant woman's voice was heard saying, "Welcome, Patrick. How may I help you?"

In a clear, distinct voice, Patrick said, "Computer, pull up previous lecture notes on Computer Preparation from September 8th."

Instantly, a series of holographic images appeared in front of them, displaying all the notes they'd discussed in the previous class. From where she was sitting, Amber saw multiple numbers and images that swam together in a great, vast sea that was the digital world of the year 5010. To someone who lacked knowledge of computer technology, the presentation would have been nothing but a foreign language. But for those who spent all their life growing up with computers, it was a language that was all but familiar to them.

Amber watched with keen interest, typing up a few quick notes while listening to Patrick speak.

"Before jumping into the world of computer searching, it's important to first know how they work. Unlike back in the 21st century when computers were much simpler, with today's advancements, things are quite different. Can they be difficult to navigate? Yes. But if you understand how they work and how to best utilize them, you can be quite confident in using them to seek answers to whatever questions you have about practically anything."

"Wish they could see into the future," said Jay Oh, one of Patrick's brightest students, along with Em Stickler. Unlike Em, however, he was more used to speaking what was on his mind and joking around but other than that, he was a fairly bright kid.

"Oh, I'm sure they will eventually," said Patrick, who was used to comments like this from Jay. "A few centuries from now, and I'm sure seeing into the future will be possible."

"Guess I'll have to make do with fortune tellers," said Jay, drumming his fingers along the desk. "Or I can just see into my own future. I can see it now…I'll be successful and living the life and—"

"And paying attention," Patrick interrupted, raising a brow and giving Jay his usual smile that his student knew meant it was time to stop talking.

"Right, sorry," said Jay quickly. "I'll be quiet. All ready to learn about this fascinating topic called Three-Dimensional Searching."

"Glad to hear, Jay," Patrick responded. "Because in a week's time, I'll be giving out a test and as you seem so thrilled, I'm sure you'll have no problem getting an A+."

Jay grumbled disapprovingly, which was followed by the expected groans of a few other students at the mention of an upcoming test.

"Computer, new search," said Patrick. Instantaneously, the holographic display vanished, the computer waiting to be told next what to do.

"How about we not have a test?" Jay suggested, giving Patrick a big smile. "You know we know our stuff."

"Nice try, Jay," Patrick chuckled. "But I have to have some way of assessing your learning and the best way I can do that is with a test. No need to get worked up about it. Study the material, review the practice questions I'll give to you and you'll all do fine. I've never had a student fail one of my tests before, so that should reassure you. Besides, you're all quite lucky having me as a teacher. From what the other teachers tell me, some give out tests every week, while I only test you every month, so I think that makes me one of the easier teachers."

The kids couldn't argue with him there. He was certainly one of the best, if not, the best teacher at Chelsea High. For one, he was right in that he wasn't strict on hammering his students with test after test, week after week. And the fact that he wasn't one of those teachers that yelled and raised their voice to regain control of the class was a nice bonus.

Of course, for the girls, it helped too that Mr. Mac was young, friendly…and rather cute. If they didn't care much for computers, most wouldn't have minded spending an hour of their time watching and listening to him.

Patrick turned his attention to Amber and asked her, "How you doing there, Amber? Have any questions, comments so far?"

"Oh, no, I'm good," she told him, having taken a break from typing.

"Well, you haven't dozed off on me yet, so that's a good thing!" Patrick exclaimed. "And the class is awake and listening, so, so far, so good. I'd say it's shaping up to be a good afternoon then."

She smiled at the comment, and refocused her attention on learning all she could to better prepare herself for tomorrow.

"As for Three-Dimensional Searching," Patrick began, his eyes traveling throughout the room. "Essentially, there are three major points one needs to be aware of when conducting an online search. Anyone know what those might be?"

As always, Em was the first to raise her hand.

"Understanding?" she replied.

"Absolutely," said Patrick. "Understanding why you're conducting a search and what answers you hope to find is the first step in Three-Dimensional Searching. That's great. Anyone know the two others?"

He waited for more hands to rise, but the students seemed stumped and unable to answer…except for Em.

"Hmm, seems like you'll be leading the discussion today, Em," said her teacher, chuckling lightly. "Care to reveal the other two points?"

"Sure," said Em, Patrick's class and science being her two favourite courses. "Focus and prior knowledge."

"Exactly," said Patrick. "The more focused you are on your search, the more likely it is you'll obtain better results, and find what you're ultimately searching for. Letting your mind drift to other topics can often cause you to lose focus, which can sometimes lead to answers you might not have been looking for. Focus is important. Also important is having a prior base of knowledge of whatever it is you're searching, whether that be a person, place, event or specific moment in time. Knowledge is useful in helping guide you in the direction you're wanting or needing to go. Combining knowledge, focus and understanding, and these are three of the most central tips to keep in mind."

For the next thirty minutes, Patrick was busy engaging the class in exploring the topic of Three-Dimensional Searching. After presenting them with a step-by-step tutorial on his own holographic screen, he let them then open up their own screens, where he assigned them each a different assignment.

Some were assigned the task of searching up locations like Florida, New York, China, and Africa. Others spent their time searching up information on a variety of individuals – past presidents, inventors, musicians, writers and artists. Historical events like the Hindenburg disaster, World War Two and various others were also chosen for online researching.

As they interfaced with the computers, Amber heard student after student calling out their findings as Patrick walked about the room to take a closer look.

"It says here the Hindenburg crashed in Lakehurst, New Jersey on May 6th, killing thirty-six people in total, with sixty-two of the ninety-seven passengers having survived."

"That's great, Roger," Patrick commented, examining the information on the holographic screen. In front of them in miniature form was a lifelike, three-dimensional image of the great zeppelin. "How about details on the airship's design?"

"Computer," said Roger. "Details on design of Hindenburg."

The pleasant-sounding voice responded with, "The Hindenburg was 245 meters in length and of conventional zeppelin design. It was capable of a maximum speed of 135 km per hour, and a cruising speed of 126 km per hour. Also, it was—"

"Excellent," said Patrick. "Seems like you're getting the hang of it. Well done."

"Thank you, Mr. Mac."

Patrick looked down at the computer, chuckled under his breath and said, "I meant that about Roger."

There was a brief pause.

The computer then responded with, "What does that mean?"

Patrick shook his head and remarked, "Funny things these computers. They're an incredible source of technology, yet…still no sense of humour."

Before continuing around the room, he told Roger, "Great start. See what you can look up on the disaster. I'll come by in a bit and see how you're doing."

"Okay. Thanks Mr. Mac," said Roger.

As Patrick made his way about the room, Amber found her eyes shifting from the ongoing holographic presentation up on the board…to Mr. Mac. She couldn't help feel intrigued with that calm, confident air about him. For the next few minutes, she was all but oblivious to the fact that her eyes had stopped wandering and were now fixed solely on the young teacher.

 _I'm not here to...to...I don't even know what I'm doing!_ thought Amber. _I've gotta stay focused. I can't sit here and just...what...stare at him? Focus!_

It didn't help though when Patrick would occasionally look in her direction and give her another of those smiles that simply lit up his face. She knew he was just being friendly, but she felt if he was trying to make her cheeks flush red, then he was doing an awfully great job!

 _Just focus on shadowing_ , she reminded herself, wondering if her cheeks had indeed broken out in a red hue. There was no way of telling, so all she could do was hope it was fine. _If I want to be a good teacher, I have to stay focused._

While she might not have realized just how closely she was staring at him, that didn't mean the students didn't.

Some of the students on her side of the room – Roger, Shana and Casey – had noticed that she was now gazing at their teacher. From where they were sitting and what they saw, they had a pretty good idea of what filled that woman's eyes: curiosity.

Cassie and Shana exchanged knowing smiles.

It was clear Patrick now had himself a new admirer.

When Mr. Mac arrived at Jay's desk, he watched the young student and saw he'd already searched his topic quite thoroughly. As for what he was now spending his time doing, he was amusing himself by throwing odd, unexpected remarks at the humourless machine.

"I could really go for some pizza right now," said Jay, holding back a laugh.

"I do not know how to respond," answered the computer.

"Yeah, a nice pizza with all the works, and extra cheese. That'd sure hit the spot right now. Stuffed crust would be nice too."

Like before, the computer's answer was, "What does that mean?"

"You might be smart for a computer," Jay commented. "But for a computer, you really gotta work on that sense of humour."

After a typical pause from the computer, it shot back, "I do not know how to respond."

" _A-hem_!"

Jay turned, looked over his shoulder and saw Mr. Mac standing there, arms crossed and a brow raised.

"Seems like you and the computer are having fun," Patrick observed. Any other teacher would have already entered the phase of scolding the student in disapproval, but Patrick was able to maintain that calm demeanour.

"Uh, maybe," said Jay, quickly pulling up the screenshot of data. "I got all the info on President Lincoln though. Everything you asked for is here."

After a quick examination, Patrick said to his student, "Well done. Great summary, and good use of time. I would recommend, however, not throwing wise remarks at the computer. They're not equipped to deal with such comments. You might give it a headache."

"Because they have absolutely no sense of humour," Jay explained. "I bet a bug would have a better sense of humour."

"No, can't say they do," Patrick agreed. "But do try to spend the next while productively, alright? With only a few classes spent on this topic, I want you all to feel prepared before the test. It's not just going to be a question and answer type test this time. I'm going to assign each of you a new topic and you'll have a limited amount of time to research your topic…and then present your findings to me."

"Lovely!" Jay exclaimed, running his hand through his head and sighing. "Gotta love presentations. Fun times."

"I know no one likes them," said Patrick in understanding. "But it really is going to help strengthen your presentational skills. And in case you're forgetting, like I mentioned before, no one's ever failed one of my tests."

"First time for everything, Mr. Mac," said Jay, shrugging his shoulders and letting out a small smile. "First time for everything."

"You'll be fine, Jay," Patrick assured him, heading over to another student. It was as he was heading over to check in with Shana that an idea struck him.

"Amber, would you like to help?" he asked. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but if you'd like to hop in and check out some of the topics, you're more than welcome to."

"S-sure," she said, rising from the chair. Closing up her laptop, she then started towards the center of the room but almost tripped over one of her feet, but managed to keep herself steady.

 _How am I going to teach my own class when I can't even stand?_ she thought, suddenly feeling a tad nervous over what the following day would bring.

"Sorry," she said, chuckling nervously. "Not great on my feet today, I guess."

"No worries," said Patrick, sending her a smile. "Happens to everyone. If you'd like to check in with Em and see how she's doing, that'd be great. I'm just going to see how Shana's doing. Other than that, they're all getting the hang of it."

"Okay," said Amber, hoping she'd be able to do as great a job teaching as Patrick. From what she'd seen so far, he seemed to carry himself in a calm, confident and professional way that expressed to others that he was ready, ready to take on any challenge, any hurdle, any obstacle the world had to throw at him. Not only that, but he knew how to communicate to his students in a way that got them engaged and interested.

She could only hope that with time and luck, she could do the same.

 _Patience, I guess_ , she thought, hoping she was right. _Gotta be patient._


	5. Is it a Spark?

When Amber stopped next to Em's desk, the girl looked up, acknowledged her with a smile and said, "Hi."

"Hey," said Amber, pulling up a seat next to her. "How's the search going?"

"Good," said Em, opening up her findings on the screen. "I found quite a bit of info on Florida. Looks like a nice place. Especially Disney World."

"I've always wanted to go there," said Amber thoughtfully, staring at the renowned castle and thousands of people surrounding it.

"Me too," said Em. Pulling up the rest of her search, she went on, "Its largest lake is Lake Okeechobee, its home to the World Golf Hall of Fame, the Florida Everglades are the only place on Earth where you'll see crocodiles and alligators living together, it's the largest producer of watermelons in the country and its got its own Bigfoot."

"Seems like you did a good job then," Amber concluded, impressed with the student's ability to online-search so effectively. "Great to know where to get some watermelon."

Em chuckled, and said, "For sure." She then flipped through the screen again, adding, "Actually, there was another interesting finding I came across. I'll see if I can pull it up again."

After a quick search through the collected findings, she found nothing.

"That's weird," said Em, confused. "It was just here."

"Try interfacing with the computer." Amber offered, also puzzled. "Maybe if you prompt it, it'll relocate it for you."

"Computer," said Em in a clear voice. "Bring up information on Florida's Bat Tower."

"No information available," the computer replied.

Em bit her lip, thinking, and said, "Bat Tower of Florida, built in 1929. Bring up additional details."

"No details available."

"That's weird," Em said in a baffled tone, thrown by the computer's strange response. It wasn't common for computer errors to occur, though there was still always the chance the odd computer here and there may experience technological difficulties.

"Guess it's being stubborn today," was all Amber could say, trying to come up with an explanation for what might be causing the issue. She was coming up empty.

"They're great when they work," said Em. "Not so great when they don't."

"I just…can't put my finger on what the problem could be," said Amber, thinking hard and staring intently at the holographic images. "I feel like I know it, but…maybe I don't."

"Maybe we should get Mr. Mac to take a look," Em suggested. "He might know what's causing it."

"Good idea." Amber turned and called out, "Patrick?"

"Yeah?" He'd just finished helping Shana pull out a few more details from her search on World War Two when he heard his name being called.

"Would you mind taking a look at Em's search?" she asked, motioning to the screen of three-dimensional images in front of them. "It's not pulling up any data on one of her findings."

"Sure thing," he said, striding over to them.

"It's weird," Em told him, still watching the screen in confusion. "It was working fine one minute, then the next, it can't pull up any data on Florida's Bat Tower, but that was something I searched up. I tried interfacing with it, but that didn't seem to work. It just can't seem to be able to pull up that one entry. Everything else was fine."

"Hmm," said Patrick, running his fingers through his brown hair. "Could be a minor issue with a breakdown in the core's memory system. I've seen this before where it suddenly stops recalling entries you put in and things you looked up. Let's take a look."

He took a seat next to them and started off by reading through Em's multiple findings. When nothing unusual popped up there, he then entered a few codes into the computer and decided to try interfacing to see if the codes proved effective.

"Computer," he said clearly. "Pull up information regarding Florida's Bat Tower."

"Bat Tower of Florida," began the computer. "This was—" but the voice was then cut off abruptly.

"Strange," said Patrick to himself. Tapping his fingers against the desk, he thought back to his schooling when he'd learned of problems like this. After entering the codes, it was evident the computer's memory base hadn't been erased or struck by a virus; it was more like it was unable to reveal all facts the user had gathered.

But what was causing it?

"It's got to be fixable," Em offered hopefully. "There hasn't been a malfunction recorded yet with these computers. They're too advanced to crash, so whatever it is, it's got to be something small."

"Exactly," Patrick agreed. "And I remember learning about this. Just have to remember what it's called." He carried on tapping his fingers, shifting his gaze to the desk, while thinking hard to what this obstacle might be, and how to resolve it.

"I feel like I might know what it is," said Amber slowly, focusing on the list of codes now showing on the screen. "I just…can't remember."

"I think we should enter a series four-five-eight code," said Patrick decisively. "Maybe that can help clear out whatever's going on inside." He shot a look at Amber, gave a small smile, and asked, "Want to give it a try?"

She looked for a moment at the screen, then back to Patrick and answered with a shrug, "Maybe you should. You know what you're doing more than I do."

"Not at all," he chuckled warmly. "You're the new teacher and two heads are always better than one." His smile broadened as he said encouragingly, "Go for it."

She pressed her hand against the large white button, and called out, "Computer. Entering code four-five-eight."

"Processing," the computer replied. A few seconds later, she heard it announce, "Code four-five-eight…accepted."

"Awesome," said Patrick, pleased. "So that means there's no issue with receiving codes. Now if I can just think back to that lecture. There's one more step and that should do the trick. But what is it?"

Think Patrick, think! he thought to himself, digging deep into his mind of everything computer-related to unbury that one small detail needed to unravel this whole issue. You learned about this. You studied this. There's just one more step and that should be it. But what's that code called? Or is it even a code? Is it a command? A boost? A restart? Think!

Amber, meanwhile, kept her hand relaxed against the white control button, her eyes fixed upon the screen as if hoping it might give them the answer. Em also stared at the screen, but not having the in-depth knowledge of a teacher, she was all but stumped as to what that final step could be. There were likely hundreds of possible options for how to go about solving obstacles like this. She figured between the combined minds of Mr. Mac and Ms. Norm, the two could figure it out.

Another few minutes of thinking…and finally Patrick had it! The answer had been creeping into his mind all along and had now decided to make itself known. Like Amber, it had been on the tip of his tongue and it was now that it had entered his mind.

"The ultra code," he uttered to himself, it now making total, perfect sense. What else could it have been but the ultra code? "Code six-four-five-nine." It now seemed so incredibly easy, he wondered why hadn't he thought of it sooner?

All he had to do now was enter the code and…problem solved. That would be the end of that.

So with that in mind, he lowered his hand, placed it against the white control button that would enable him to interface yet again with the computer…but his hand wasn't touching the central button. He didn't need to shift his eyes to see that his hand had fallen overtop of someone else's.

From where she sat, Em watched the whole scene unfold in unbroken silence. Being only sixteen, she admitted that she wasn't an expert on anything romance-related, but she did know there was always a way it revealed itself without having to speak even a single word.

It was all in the eyes.

For those few seconds, she observed the two teachers who had now fallen silent, focusing only on their eyes. While spoken words and body language were all important and spoke volumes, she'd heard so often before that what appears in one's eyes simply couldn't be mistaken. Even she couldn't fully understand what that meant herself; she'd only heard bits and pieces from others who recalled having experienced or seen it themselves.

Watching these two just then…something had most definitely sparked in their eyes. As to what that was, Em couldn't decide but nonetheless, some small spark had ignited somewhere in their eyes. Like a burning flame, it danced and swirled, stirring up something inside them that could only be described as…exciting.

Like waking up to a perfect summer's day, or reuniting with a long-lost friend, a burst of unexplainable excitement was rushing through them.

Why Patrick hadn't automatically moved his hand right away, he couldn't answer. He knew he was an intellectual and always strived to solve whatever challenge needed solving, but this question was one he had no answer to. Whatever sudden sensations were now flowing through his head, he couldn't unravel it, or make sense of it in the slightest.

All he could hear was question after question echoing in his mind.

What are you doing, Patrick?

Why don't you just move your hand?

What's she thinking?

What is this…this…feeling?

Why aren't you moving your hand yet?

I have no idea what I'm doing right now…do I?

All he felt in those few seconds while he and Amber's hands touched was a mixture of odd, but unmistakable sensations – thrill, energy, comfort, wonder and others that he simply couldn't explain.

He may have had all the answers when it came to computers, teaching, libraries, history…but not this one. Like a foreign language, all he was faced with were countless questions with no answers.

The only words that kept replaying in his mind were: what are you doing?

The arising feelings just about mirrored all those that now filled Amber's cluttered mind. She too couldn't explain what it meant, but while she and Patrick couldn't put the pieces together…Em could.

Patrick and Amber may not have caught on to what was now showing in their eyes, but watching them closely, Em felt she could read it pretty clearly. That brief, yet evident spark was like its own secret language that whispered. What words it whispered, that she didn't know, but if she had to guess, she felt sure it had to do with the other person. The fact that their eyes were locked on the other's was a dead giveaway.

Staring into Patrick's warm brown eyes, Amber swore she could see something reflecting back into her own unblinking eyes. Despite sitting right next to him, still she was unable to read what showed in his eyes. All she saw was a sea of mixed colors and strangely enough, his eyes seemed to shine brighter than ever.

A few seconds of this shared, unspoken connection…and then it was over. Like the last bit of fire dying out after a rainstorm, the dancing colors, sensations and overlapping thoughts dissolved, and reality brought the two back to the here and now.

"I-I'm sorry," said Patrick quickly, withdrawing his hand from Amber's. "Didn't see your hand there."

She laughed quietly, saying with a hint of awkwardness in her voice, "It's okay. Didn't see yours either."

Patrick locked eyes with the young woman for a split second once more, then shook himself together and said with a new tone, "Right! Okay, so we'll just enter in the code here and that should fix things up for you, Em."

His attention now on the computer, Patrick ordered, "Computer. Enter code six-four-five nine."

"Processing code six-four-five-nine." Three seconds passed, and then, "Code six-four-five-nine accepted."

"Now to see if it worked," said Patrick. "Computer, pull up previous information on Florida's Bat Tower."

To his relief, the computer than began revealing all the data and facts on the Bat Tower and he then knew it was that code that had indeed solved the issue.

"Thanks, Mr. Mac," said Em with a smile. "You too Ms. Norm."

"You don't have to thank me," she said quickly, directing her eyes to Patrick. "I didn't remember the code. Patrick did."

Patrick shrugged modestly, telling her, "It was on the tip of your tongue. You knew it. I know you knew it. You just encountered what every teacher does. Mind blank."

That could have been true, but she wondered if there was a chance she may have been, what was the word…distracted? Letting your focus shift for even a second can throw one's train of thought off completely, and it wouldn't surprise her if that were the case.

If it was, there was no question as to what that distraction was. Or better yet…who that distraction was.

"Well, good thing it's fixed," said Amber, observing the now lively screen.

"Yup, back up and running," Patrick commented. Then to Em, he asked, "Any questions about the searching, Em?"

"No, I think I'm good," she answered. "I think I got the hang of it. So long as nothing like that happens during the test." She added this last part with a small laugh.

Patrick chuckled, assuring her, "You'll do fine. And I wouldn't take points off for that." With a smile, he added, "I'm not that mean."

"Well, thanks for the help," Em said again, shutting down the computer. "Now off to math." With a touch of sarcasm in her voice, she remarked, "Fun times."

"Math's not so bad," said Patrick.

"It is when you have a pop quiz," Em shot back, frowning nervously. "Don't know if it's today but it's sometime this week."

"Oh, well, good luck then if it's today," said Patrick.

"Thanks," said Em. Then to Amber, she told her sincerely, "Good luck teaching tomorrow."

She then packed up her bag and left the room, followed by the nineteen other students who were heading off to their next class.

As Em strode down the long hall, she thought back to Patrick and Amber and wondered: _I wonder how this'll all unfold?_

Back in the classroom, Patrick and Amber were once more alone.

"And thus concludes my afternoon class," Patrick announced, walking over to his desk. "How did you find it?"

"Great," was her response, her mind flashing ahead to tomorrow when she herself would begin teaching. "You do a good job getting them engaged. They like using the computers, so that must make the class more enjoyable."

"It helps too that I teach one of the favourite courses," he said with a light chuckle. "It's a nice break from calculus or chemistry or physics. I don't hear anyone raving about linear functions, redox reactions, or Newton's laws of motions. But they do seem to like coming to my class. The others, well…not so much."

"True," she agreed. "Can't say they're as fun."

With his leather satchel at his side again, Patrick walked over to her and said, "Well, I'm glad you found today helpful. And like I said, if you ever need a hand with anything or have a question, I'm never far. Actually—" and he pulled his comm out of his pocket. "Did you want to add me on your comm?"

"Yeah, sure," said Amber, pulling out her own comm.

She pressed hers against Patrick's and an instant later, a light green button lit up on both, indicating that they were now contacts in the other's comm.

"Perfect, this way if we ever need to find each other, the comms will help," said Patrick, tucking his back into his pocket. "I'm pretty easy to find though. I'm usually in one of two places."

"Classroom or library?" she asked, smiling.

"Exactly," he answered, returning her smile with one of his own.

There was a slight pause, and then Patrick started for the door.

"Guess I better be off then," she heard him say. "I'm on library duty for the rest of the afternoon."

"I should be going too," she said, following behind. "Gotta get ready for tomorrow. Lots to do."

Before he continued down the hall, he stopped, locked eyes with her briefly and then said warmly, "See you tomorrow."

For a moment, she almost didn't answer. She then mentally shook herself together and answered as if in a daze, "Y-yeah. See you tomorrow."

With a final smile goodbye, Patrick strode down the hall, once again taking on the air of that calm, confident and determined teacher. Watching him round the corner, she almost wished she could spend the remainder of the afternoon in the library herself. She was curious to see Patrick at work as the school's librarian, but tomorrow was fast approaching, and she had much to do to prepare herself.

Besides, she knew it wouldn't do any good to let herself get distracted. She'd allowed herself to get distracted earlier, but starting tomorrow, she was going to transform into the teacher she'd been preparing to be for years.

* * *

As Patrick spent his time monitoring things downstairs in the library, he found his mind drifting off every now and then. At times, he wasn't even aware of it but most times, he caught his thoughts shifting, so he quickly reeled them back in.

 _What's going on with me today?_ he pondered in confusion. As groups of students sat in various chairs, using the computers, he remained at the librarian's desk, deep in thought. _That's not like me to drift off, especially not at work._

"Mr. Mac?" a girl's voice called from a few desks over.

 _I need to stay focused_ , he reminded himself. _Focused and on task._

"Mr. Mac?" the voice said again. One of the girls was now standing in front of his desk, watching him with a curious expression.

 _I can't be daydreaming_ , he thought to himself. _But…why? Why would I be daydreaming anyway? Am I just tired? No…that's not it._

"Mr. Mac?" the voice said more loudly.

" _Huh_?" Patrick pulled himself out of his jangled thoughts, and saw Em standing there holding a small black card. "Em!" he said, wondering how he hadn't seen her standing there. "How long were you standing there?"

"Just a minute or so," was her casual answer. She held out the black card and asked, "I was wondering if you could approve my online request? It says it needs the librarian's approval."

"Oh, right, sure," he said, returning to reality. "Not a problem."

He took Em's library card, inserted it into the machine, entered a three-digit code, and a green light lit up on the card.

"There you go," said Patrick, handing it back to her. "You're all set."

"Thanks," she smiled.

 _It's that same look_ , thought Em, comparing what she'd just observed to what she'd seen back in the classroom. _I know it is._

"I thought you were supposed to be in math?" Patrick asked her, confused. "Change of plans?"

"I was," she told him. "But Mr. Ackles had us come downstairs for the rest of class to use the computers. Part of the assignment. The computers up in the math room are being upgraded right now so he thought we should come down here. He said they should be back up and running tomorrow."

"Oh, that's right," said Patrick, remembering. "Those ones are getting the new upgrade. Almost forgot."

"So Ms. Norm starts teaching tomorrow?"

"Yup," said Patrick.

"She seems like she'll be a good teacher," said Em, tucking her card into the pocket of her purse.

"Yes, she does," said Patrick slowly, giving Em a small smile that said he knew exactly what she was aiming to do. It was a look teachers often gave their students that said they figured out what it was they were trying to do, and Patrick was a master at reading his students. It was a skill he'd developed during the few years he'd been teaching at Chelsea High.

"You guys work well together," Em went on saying. "Maybe you should do that more often!"

"Sure," said Patrick, reading through a list of files on his screen.

 _Nice try, Em_ , he thought. _But I know what you're up to._

"You do make a great team though," she went on. "You guys should teach together all the time."

Patrick's smile broadened as he leaned back in his chair, now directing his focus to Em. The students were a clever bunch of kids, but they couldn't get anything past Mr. Mac! He was too smart for that.

"Good-bye, Em," he said, suppressing a laugh.

And that was the end of that conversation.

"Just saying," she uttered under her breath, and with a shrug, walked back to her desk.

"I heard that," Patrick called to her.

"I know," said Em. "Just felt like saying it."

Patrick shook his head in amusement, and returned his attention to running the audit program. There was no denying that the students made him laugh with some of the things they did, but they had yet to reel him in like a fish on a line. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together and work out what they hoped to accomplish.

Before packing up and leaving the library, he did pull out his comm, flipping through his contacts. There was one last thing he wanted to do before heading out.

When he found who he was looking for, he smiled, typed up his message and hit send.

* * *

Back home in her apartment, Amber was busy at work going through her outlined plan for tomorrow's class. She was sitting at the kitchen table, alternating between flipping through pages of hand-written notes as well as teaching blueprints on her holographic screen. It was when she was about to enter a few minor changes to the nearly finalized plan that she heard the familiar beeping on her comm.

Picking it up, she saw the words new message flashing repeatedly on the screen. Opening it up, she had to smile when she saw who it was from.

It was from Patrick. It read: _Good luck tomorrow! I know you'll do great :)_


	6. A Growing Connection

It was 8:00 am when Amber was awoken by the sound of the familiar beeping of her comm, signalling that it was time for the day to begin. She had just enough time to eat, shower, get dressed and do one last review of her teaching plan for that day before her morning class at 9:00am.

Overall, she felt she'd constructed a decent enough plan for her first day. She was a little nervous as to how she'd do for time management, what the students would think of her, and how effective her teaching would be.

Starting the morning off by fretting wouldn't do any good though. So she pushed those thoughts aside, and did her best to think positive, and remind herself that she was finally going to become what she'd always wanted to be – a teacher.

As she was leaving her apartment and strolling down the lengthy hallway, she pulled out her comm and briefly checked her messages. Her eyes fell once more on the message she'd received last night from Patrick Mac. A smile crossed her face as she re-read it while strolling down the hall, her bag at her side.

_Good luck tomorrow! I know you'll do great :)_

_Thanks Patrick_ , she thought, a sudden small burst of confidence now rushing through her. _Hope I'll be as good a teacher as you someday._

* * *

Ten minutes before the start of morning classes, Amber was in her newly assigned classroom. Like all the other rooms, it was spacious, filled with fresh colours, decorative plants and various highly advanced computers.

When she placed her bag on the curved wooden table that was her own, personal workspace, it finally struck her – this was it. It was now time to apply all the knowledge she'd gained from her recent schooling and help educate a class of students. She had now transformed from being a student herself to being an official high school teacher.

As she was starting up her computer, she thought she heard approaching footsteps. Glancing over to the open door, she noticed one of the teachers walking past, but not without first stopping to peer into her classroom. When his eyes fell on Amber, his face broke out in a big smile and there was no stopping her own face from doing the same.

"Morning, Amber!" Patrick called to her. "All ready to start teaching?"

"Hey Patrick! Should know in another minute or so," she called back to him with a light chuckle, her eyes shifting to the rows of empty desks. "When it's not just me in the room anymore."

Patrick laughed at the remark and continued on toward his own classroom.

"See you at lunch!" she heard him call out.

She only had a few minutes more to look over the classroom before the students started strolling into the room. In groups of twos and threes, they came filing in and before she knew it, all twenty-three of them were seated and waiting for her to introduce herself.

"Morning everyone!" she announced. With a smile, she walked over to the front of the room and faced the group of eleventh graders. "My name's Ms. Norm. As Ms. Simmonds told you, I'm going to be the new Computer Technology teacher here at Chelsea High, and I'm super excited to be teaching this course. I apologize in advance if I don't get everyone's names right away. I'm sometimes not the best with pronunciations or remembering names but by next week, I should have all of your names down pat. I guess we'll start in the front row here. If you guys want to start by telling me your name and a bit about yourself, that would be great!"

For Amber, the next hour seemed to fly by in a speeding blur. One moment she was introducing herself to the class, the next she was once more standing in an empty, silent classroom. Of course, the room would again be busy with activity later that afternoon, as it was a course that was taught in both morning and afternoon sessions. After having completed her first morning class of teaching, she was actually looking forward to doing it all over again at 2:00. Best of all, the students seemed like pretty good kids who were eager to learn more about advancing their computer skills. And as they seemed to like her so far, all in all, the morning had turned out a success in her book.

* * *

When lunch break rolled around, Amber made her way to the teacher's lounge and was quickly greeted by the other teachers. They congratulated her, asked her how the first class of teaching had gone, and generally made her feel like she was now part of the teaching staff. While still feeling rather shy, she had to appreciate how quick they were to welcome her and include her in discussions.

When she'd taken a seat on the same leather couch she'd sat in just yesterday, before she had time to take a bite of salad…she heard that friendly voice calling out to her again.

"Hoped I'd see you here!" said Patrick, taking a seat next to her. "So how'd everything go?"

"Good, actually," she answered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Didn't trip or stutter or mispronounce anyone's names so that helped. I was so nervous though at first. I kept thinking what if I forget something, but once I got going, it wasn't that bad."

"Glad to hear," said Patrick with a smile. "Give it a week or so and you'll look back and wonder why you ever got nervous. Still remember when I felt like that. Once you get to know the kids and the course gets going though, it all becomes routine."

A third voice chimed in with, "I see you two are sitting together again!"

Patrick didn't need to turn to see who the new arrival was. With a little half-smile, he replied, "Hey Matt."

The chemistry teacher leaned up against the back of the couch and went on in a joking tone Patrick knew all too well, "Guess the Computer Tech crew likes sticking together, eh?"

"Yeah, we don't care much for you Chemistry folks," said Patrick, also in a joking tone. "We prefer keeping our distance."

"So that's how it is now, Mr. Mac?" asked Matt, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Apparently so," Patrick concluded, shrugging.

The two guys then gave each other an amused look and burst out laughing.

"Only you would start up a war between courses," Patrick commented, taking a sip of water. "But you know us Computer Tech crew would come out on top, right?"

"You wish," Matt shot back with a goofy grin.

"Matt and I like poking fun at each other, as you can probably see," Patrick explained to Amber with a little chuckle. "We've been at it for years. He won't even try that with his wife, because he knows she'll win every time.

"Ah, but you're not married," Matt pointed out. "You don't know how clever a wife can be. It's like they've got a second brain."

"And that's why you like poking fun at me," Patrick shot back, throwing him an amused look.

"Right you are, Mr. Single," said Matt with a wink. "Just wait till the day you find a girlfriend. Then you'll see why I don't mess with my wife. They're an unbeatable bunch."

"O-oh, I'm terrified!" Patrick exclaimed, pretending to sound genuinely worried. "Maybe I ought to stick with doing battle with you then. That way I stand more of a chance."

"Who usually wins?" asked Amber, having found their conversation rather amusing. "You or Matt?"

"Myself of course!" was Matt's answer, giving himself a pat on the shoulder. "Patrick here is a formidable opponent, but he's no match for me, of course."

Patrick leaned in closer to Amber and whispered, "That's his way of trying to sound convincing."

Matt chuckled, and then asked Amber excitedly, "So how'd day one go for you? Kids didn't tire you out too much?"

"Actually, no," she answered with a light chuckle. "Still in one piece, so that's a good sign. If anything, I'll probably be the one tiring them out come the end of the year."

"Well congrats on surviving your first day of teaching," Matt said, giving her a high-five. "Who knows? Maybe you and Mr. Mac here will go head to head with each other? See who's the better teacher?"

"No, I think Amber and I prefer the whole working together concept."

"Such a gentleman you are," Matt said jokingly. "Not wanting to stir up mischief with your new friend."

"Of course not," Patrick replied. "Us Computer Tech teachers stick together. And I want Amber to enjoy her first week here with us."

"And with _you_ ," Matt added, a half-smile breaking out on his face.

"You're killing me, Matt!" Patrick exclaimed, playfully waving him off. "How can we eat our lunch in peace when you're causing such a ruckus over here?"

"Okay, okay!" he shot back with a laugh, raising his hands in surrender. "You win again, Mr. Mac. But one of these days, I will have my victory. Count on it."

"Oh, did you mean to say _none_ of these days?" Patrick asked, looking to Amber with the tiniest grin. She couldn't help but smile back as well, especially noticing the hilarious expression on Matt's face.

He gave them one last smile and before walking off, told them, "Have a good lunch."

"So he likes causing trouble?" Amber asked him.

"For sure," said Patrick. "He's nicknamed Jester of the school. If there's anyone that can make you laugh, it's that guy. He's been at it for years and he still makes everyone laugh. I always told him he would have made a swell comedian. His wife tells him that too."

"I could see that," she agreed, biting into her salad. "And he likes making people laugh."

"In a way though," Patrick went on. "I guess he already is a comedian, here at Chelsea High, anyway. Can't think of another teacher who jokes like he does."

* * *

Just like that morning, the afternoon seemed to rush by in a speeding blur. Being only her first day of teaching, Amber couldn't have imagined the day would pass by so quickly, but it did. Best of all, she'd seemed to manage the job well and the students seemed like they'd be a good group of kids to work with so in all in, she was looking forward to beginning this new career.

As the week went on, she gradually felt herself settling into this new position more smoothly than she would have expected. Like all the other teachers, she found her own unique routine of how she liked scheduling lectures and organizing hands-on activities. Seeing her name engraved on the door was what helped drive it home to her, that she was now entering that next phase of her life that she'd worked so hard at to reach – teaching.

During the week, she bumped into Patrick quite frequently. Whether it was passing by in the hall, meeting up in the lunchroom or leaving the school at the end of the day, she always seemed to be stumbling into him. As usual, he'd greet her with one of his friendly smiles and for whatever reason she couldn't yet decipher – it still left her with a mixture of emotions. She kept asking herself why a simple, everyday smile could awaken such feelings but she dismissed it as her own mind playing tricks on her.

 _It's nothing_ , she reminded herself repeatedly. _Just a little smile, nothing more. Don't overthink it._

But while she silently told herself not to overthink it…she found herself doing just that. Day after day, she'd find herself sinking back into her thoughts, pondering over why she felt so strange when he so much as smiled at her. She knew it wasn't a bad sort of strange that might leave her frustrated or exhausted. It was more that it left her feeling that same sense of unexplainable…curiosity.

But too quickly she realized it wasn't just rising curiosity she was feeling.

She also felt intrigued.

And Comfortable.

And alive.

If only there was a name to give to these persistent feelings. Whatever it was, she couldn't put her finger on it. She figured one of two things was bound to happen. They'd either vanish and leave her be completely as if nothing had ever occurred. Or, they'd keep filling her mind with endless questions that still she couldn't seem to find any answers to.

* * *

Patrick found similar thoughts racing through his own mind as the week passed by. He kept encountering those recurring questions and in spite of the fact that he was an intellectual, a bunch of brick walls was all he'd end up facing.

His students in particular noticed their teacher's shift in behaviour, as they sat in their desks observing him more closely. Of all the students, it was Em that had clued in almost instantly, and after examining him more carefully, she felt sure she knew what it was he was experiencing. There was still the chance she may have been wrong, but after watching the young teacher for a few days now, she was more confident than ever that she knew what was happening.

Where Patrick was normally focused and on task, it was out of character for him to start losing his train of thought, or to go on staring into space like he his mind was drifting elsewhere. Normally when sitting at his desk, he was busy at work grading assignments or planning ahead to tomorrow's lecture, but lately, he appeared somewhat distracted.

And his students knew it wasn't like Mr. Mac to get distracted.

It was when they saw a small smile forming on their teacher's face that it dawned on them they had to be right. There had to be a reason for someone to break out in a random smile and they had a pretty good idea as to what he was smiling about. On top of that, Em could have sworn she'd seen a distant, clouded look in Patrick's eyes, more than once. What other explanation could there be?

 _That's it_ , thought Em with finality, twirling her pencil between her fingers. _That's why Patrick's acting like that. Question is…does he know himself?_

* * *

When the end of the week arrived, an idea had been tickling at the back of Patrick's mind for the past few days. Now being Friday, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to come right out and ask her, but he figured there was no harm in trying; the worst she would say was no. He thought it was funny how all these years he'd taught dozens of students and yet not once did he feel more unsure of himself than he now did.

It was heading out the front doors of the school that he caught sight of her walking off…and he made up his mind right then and there.

"Hey, Amber!" he called, walking up beside her.

"Oh, hey," she answered, lifting her eyes up from her comm. "All done for the day?"

"Last assignment graded and last library catalogue audited."

"That sure keeps you busy," she commented, amazed at Patrick's organizational skills. "Teaching and working in the library."

"Keeps me working," he replied, adding with a light chuckle, "Guess they like giving me double duties."

She smiled in response, stating, "It's crazy how clean you keep the library. I was in there yesterday and there wasn't a single chair or file out of place."

Patrick shrugged modestly, replying, "I do what I can."

There was a brief pause, and then Amber said, "Can't believe how fast the week went by."

"It did fly by," Patrick agreed, reflecting back on those past few days that already felt like forever ago. "I've been teaching here for only a few years but I still find every week goes by fast."

"Must come with being a teacher."

"You're probably right."

"Well, guess I better be going," said Amber, and was about to turn and start for home…when Patrick decided it was now or never.

"Wait," said Patrick quickly. When she locked eyes with him again, he feared his heart might pound right out of his chest.

 _Just ask her_ , he silently encouraged himself. _If she says no, it's not the end of the world. Won't know unless you ask though so…just go for it._

"I-I was just thinking," Patrick went on, dropping his eyes momentarily. "Since you had such a great first week here and all…I was wondering if you wanted to, uh…"

When he lifted his head though and caught her staring at him with those chocolate brown eyes, he wondered how she couldn't hear his pounding heart. He figured there was no hope of slowing his rapidly increasing pulse, so he pushed that aside and refocused his attention on putting together the rest of the words.

But it was like the words had been snatched right out of his throat. One moment, he had the words all planned in his head, the next…he saw nothing but white space.

 _What are you doing?_ the words rang through his racing head. _Just a simple question._ _That's all. Just one, simple question…yet why can't I ask it?_

Patrick swallowed, and redirecting his eyes onto hers, went on, "I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to, I-I don't know, do something to celebrate?"

Already in Patrick's mind, he feared the answer to that question. A few seconds was creeping by and in those few seconds alone, he was jumping to the conclusion that he'd made a mistake. He should have waited a few more weeks to ask if she wanted to go do something with him.

 _I should have waited_ , he thought, his eyes now staring nervously down at his shoes. _Sure, we spent some time together this week but…but what was I thinking? I should have waited till we'd gotten to know each other more and…_

It was then that a single, unexpected word pulled him back to reality.

"Okay."

Patrick blinked in surprise. It was like his mind was now frozen in surprise. Had he heard correctly? Was he just imagining it? He replayed the word over in his head, now sure of it that he had to have heard it right.

He was about to respond, but her answer came as such a surprise to him that when he opened his mouth…he found no words coming out. All he could do was stand there with a small smile on his face.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked, a hint of coyness creeping into her voice.

Patrick forced himself to re-find his voice, and offered, "Well, I…uh, I wasn't sure if you've ever been to Grand Blossom Park, but it's an amazing place, especially at this time of year."

"I've heard of that!" said Amber, recognizing the name. "Just near Carney Lake, right?"

Patrick nodded, saying, "That's it. You see people there all the time, walking, swimming, feeding birds. I've been there a few times as a kid, but haven't been there since."

"I'd love to check it out," she told him, sounding interested. "What time did you want to head out?"

"Whatever time's good for you," said Patrick.

"How about twelve?" she suggested. "Around noon?"

"Sure, that sounds great," he answered. He checked the location on his comm briefly, informing her, "It's about a twenty minute drive from here. I don't mind picking you up, if you need a ride."

"Sure," said Amber. "That sounds good. I'm just in the underground complex on the tenth floor."

"No way!" Patrick exclaimed. "I'm on the fifteenth floor. That means we're neighbours."

Amber didn't speak this time; she only responded with a little smile that seemed to linger on her face.

The two teachers stood there, seemingly frozen in place till Amber finally gave a little smile and tucked her comm back into her pocket.

"Thanks for your help this week," she told Patrick appreciatively. "I was pretty nervous coming here at first. I wasn't sure how I'd do or how well I'd fit in with everyone else, but you made it a great week."

Patrick smiled at this, and said kindly, "No need to thank me. And besides, you would have done just fine without me. From what the students were saying, they're looking forward to having you as a teacher, and…" he paused only for a moment before saying genuinely, "And I'm glad you decided to come here."

She acknowledged this with a nod, saying, "Me too."

Another few moments passed by before Patrick started making his way down the hall.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow at twelve then?" he called to her.

"Okay," he heard her say. She then walked off in the opposite direction, heading towards the elevators.

While heading home, Patrick kept hearing the same repeating words bouncing about in his head.

 _I can't believe I just did that_ , he thought, still surprised that he hadn't backed out of it. _Better yet…she said yes!_

* * *

When Saturday morning rolled around, Patrick was awoken by two things. The first was the light and warmth of the sun shining through his glass paned window. The second was the familiar, daily greeting from Earnest, who got much enjoyment out of the fact that she could wake him up by simply licking his face with her sandy tongue.

"Saturday already, eh?" he yawned, stretching his arms.

The orange kitten made her way up onto his chest, meowed and then stared him right in the eyes as if telling him: _time to get up, sleepy head!_

That was when Patrick remembered what day it was.

"Busy day today, Earnest," Patrick explained, quickly crawling out of bed.

The cat remained sitting on the bed, watching him with her usual curiosity.

"Don't worry!" he assured her, scooping her up in his arms. "Not gonna leave without giving you breakfast."

Around 11am, Patrick was in the living room when he heard his comm beeping. Pulling it out of his pocket, he thumbed the screen to open the incoming message and saw it was from Amber.

The message read: _Just having lunch now. Meet you outside the building at 12._

Patrick responded with: _See you then!_

Jumping up beside him on the sofa was Earnest, who was staring down at the green flashing light on his comm. She reached her paw out, as if thinking it was some kind of toy she could play with.

"You wanna come, huh?" asked Patrick with a smile. "Come for a drive in the car?"

She curled up closer beside him, resting her small head on top of his knee.

"I'll take that as a no," he laughed, patting her behind the ears. "You probably wouldn't like the car."

* * *

Amber was walking out the apartment doors of the underground complex in Chelsea when she noticed a small, silver vehicle approaching the building. She could recognize the driver right away since it was a vehicle with no roof. The car itself was no bigger than a golf cart, sleek in design and came to a narrow point.

When Patrick pulled up next to her, he noticed her hair wasn't in its typical ponytail. Her shoulder-length brown hair seemed to match the brown of her eyes even more now that she'd let it down freely. She was dressed simply in a flower-decorated white lace top, black tights, and grey flats.

He got out of the car, walked over to the passenger's side, opening the door with a smile.

"Hey," said Amber, smiling back. She was starting to think more than ever that Patrick's smiles were undoubtedly contagious. It was practically impossible not to break out smiling when he threw you one of his friendly smiles.

"All ready?" asked Patrick.

"Yeah," was her answer. "I'm excited, since the weather's supposed to be sunny today, so we picked the perfect day to go."

"Absolutely," he agreed, holding the car door open for her. "We timed it well."

"Thanks," she said, blushing slightly while stepping inside.

Once she and Patrick were both seated, he asked, "You like apples, right?"

"Of course!"

"Grand Blossom Park's famous for its honey crisps. The trees are in bloom this time of year too, so if you want to go apple picking, we can."

"When it comes to honey crisps…I'm always up for apple picking. They're my favourite."

"Mine too."

When the small car left the underground complex of Chelsea and re-entered the open space of the above world, once more the two were met with the pleasant sights and smells of Manhattan. The air was fresh and crisp and contained various smells one was often treated to while venturing aboveground – pine trees, gardens of blossoming flowers and so many others that blended together.

While driving out along the winding, grassy plains, Amber's eyes watched the endless rows of towering trees. As autumn was just around the corner, the leaves were just starting to swap out their colors of greens for the typical oranges, yellows and reds. Staring out at the palette of colors, she could never decide what season was her favourite – autumn or summer.

Every now and then, Patrick turned to see Amber gazing out at the passing scenery. Her expression was one of calmness and with how silent she was, it was like she were a million miles away, caught up in the simple, everyday beauty of the rolling green hills, and clusters of trees.

With the wind rustling her brown hair and her face so serene, he couldn't help but stare at her for that brief moment, thinking: _she's beautiful_. Though he'd only known her for a week, there was no denying that he felt a variety of emotions while around her. What arose inside him, what ended up stirring and bubbling inside him, filling him with such warmth…he wanted to experience more of that.

As they were approaching Carney Lake, Amber said, "I forgot how beautiful it was up here."

Patrick took in the eye-catching sight of the vast lake off to their right, saying, "I know. I spend so much time underground, that I almost forget how much I love coming up here. I have to start doing it more often."

She then saw a family of ducks making their way across the sparkling lake.

"Look," she said, pointing towards the center of the lake. "See the ducks?"

Patrick looked to where she was pointing and saw the mother duck, followed closely behind by six ducklings.

"Great day for a swim," Patrick commented. "They've got the right idea."

"Did you ever see any ducks when you were at the park as a kid?" she asked.

Patrick thought for a moment, and then answered, "Yeah, there were some ducks. There's a large pond at the lake that's home to frogs, ducks and a bunch of fish. Might see some ducks today. We can feed some if you like."

"You can feed them?" she asked, sounding excited.

"Sure," said Patrick. "People always leave some bread at the pond to throw to them."

"Well, they can have all the bread they want," Amber joked. "But they better not come after my honey crisps!"

Patrick burst out laughing, asking, "Why? Don't want to share?"

"No way!" she said, laughing too. "They can have their bread. But those apples, well…they're off limits."

Still laughing, Patrick told her assuredly, "Don't worry. I think they'll be quite content with some bread."

Looking over at Patrick, she saw that smile just lighting up his entire face. No matter what he was smiling or laughing about, he never failed to make her want to break out smiling herself. It made her think of the phrase laughter is contagious. She'd always agreed with that, and now there was another concept she felt couldn't have proven any truer.

 _Laughter is contagious_ , she thought. _And so is Patrick Mac's smile._

For another ten minutes, Patrick continued driving them along the rolling green hills. Soon, they were drawing nearer to a place where less trees could be seen. Surrounding them from every corner was nothing but smooth, green hills and flowers dotted about here and there, of various colours.

"How much farther?" asked Amber, taking in the new scenery.

"We're here now!" Patrick announced, pulling the car up to a small parking lot. Only a few other cars were currently parked there.

Amber looked around, and asked in confusion, "Where's the park?"

"Over there," said Patrick, pointing straight ahead.

"I don't see it," Amber replied, staring hard.

Patrick chuckled lightly, explaining, "It's about a ten minute walk to the park. It's just past these green hills. You'll know we're there once you see the apple trees."

"And some ducks," she threw in, stepping out of the silver car.

"Yup," said Patrick. "Can't forget them."

As he stepped out of the car and walked up beside her, he asked, "Seems like a long walk, doesn't it?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Great day for a walk though," said Patrick, glancing up at the sunny, nearly cloudless sky.

"Yeah," said Amber. "Good thing it's not raining."

Patrick then started walking up towards the first grassy hill. He stopped briefly, turned back and asked with a smile, "Think you can keep up with me?"

She followed behind him, and remarked, "Sure. We're just walking, right?"

"We could walk," said Patrick, and she saw a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Or we could…run!" And without another word, he broke out into a full-on run while laughing.

"Hey!" she called, immediately picking up the pace. "Wait for me!"

Patrick glanced over his shoulder, calling out, "Race you to the park!"

She locked eyes with him, gave a small grin and declared under her breath, "You're on!"

Pumping her legs to move faster, she felt a burst of sudden, exhilarating energy building inside her as she trailed closely behind Patrick. Her eyes seemed to take in so many sensations that all blurred together as she flew by – the smell of pine trees, the warmth of sun that beamed down from above, the crisp air that rustled through her air, and probably best of all – the lively sound of Patrick's laughter that seemed to block out all other sounds.

When she caught up to him, he glanced over to see her dashing alongside of him with that gleam in her eye that said: _thought you could outrun me, huh?_

"You're fast!" he called out, breathlessly.

"Thanks," she shot back, and with a smile, dug her feet in and shot ahead of him. "See you at the park!"

"H-hey!" Patrick shouted, pushing himself to pick up the pace. "Mind slowing down a little?"

She chuckled. "Can't keep up with me?" she called back to him.

"Still deciding on that one," he called back.

"Alright," he heard her say.

When she slowed down the pace, he pulled up next to her and the two's eyes locked momentarily.

"Thanks," said Patrick, still catching his breath. "Haven't run like this in…can't even remember."

"You're fast though," Amber told him, the two now running side by side.

"Thanks," said Patrick. "You're quite speedy yourself!"

It was then that the sight of Grand Blossom Park started coming into full view. Just up ahead, they could make out the outline of towering apple trees, a large lake with a bridge of multi-colored stones, and what looked to be hundreds of flowers showering the ground in dozens of vibrant colours.

"There's Grand Blossom Park there!" exclaimed Patrick, pointing straight ahead.

"Think you can beat me there?" Amber challenged, throwing him a little grin.

He returned her grin with a smile and answered, "Let's see!"

For the next few minutes, the two seemed to fly across the smooth, green fields. And while both were out of breath and tired, in some odd way, they still felt as though they could run farther still. Neither knew if it was the warmth of the sun re-energizing them or the distant smell of apples tempting them…or the simple joy of running side by side with a friend out in the open fields of Manhattan.

Neither one of them even noticed the few people staring out at them from the park. Up till then, the park had been mostly silent with folks reading, dipping their feet in the warm water, sleeping under the sun or resting in the shade under the cherry blossom trees. What had broken the sound of silence were two laughing voices and glancing up from where they sat, they saw two people running across the vast field.

What caught their attention wasn't so much the fact that they were seeing two people running. That was a fairly common sight. What left a few of them staring a few moments longer was how absorbed these two people were in racing along, side by side. They laughed like they were the only two people for miles, as if that great, vast field were theirs alone. Anyone who didn't know them would have supposed they were two young people who'd been swept up by love, and were now basking in it.

When at last they'd arrived at Grand Blossom Park, Amber took a minute to catch her breath.

"That was…fun," she said to Patrick, filling her lungs with air.

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding. He added, "I'd say I'm ready for a long nap though. Five or six hours would be sufficient."

Lifting her head, the sheer beauty of the park was enough to make Amber then forget anything she'd intended on saying.

The most she could get out was a stunned, "Wow."

Standing next to her, Patrick surveyed the park and with a smile, declared, "It's just how I remember it."

Wherever their eyes looked, they were met with a sight that was nothing less than nature at its finest. In front of them was the great lake Patrick had previously mentioned and sure enough, there were the ducks he'd expected would be there also. They even saw three kids kneeling down on their knees, tossing bits of bread into the water for them.

To the left of the pond was a cherry blossom tree, so pink in color that Amber felt her eyes instantly drawn to it. Having never seen such a tree up close before, she could have went on standing there for hours, simply taking in the sight of this gorgeous tree.

What captivated her attention most of all though were the hundreds of flowers surrounding them. Ruby reds, brilliant yellows, orchid purples, sapphire blues, emerald greens were all colours that helped bring the park to life. It was like staring at a field of rainbows, only she was staring at rows of multi-coloured flowers, each blending in almost seamlessly with the rest.

"So…what do you think?" asked Patrick.

"It's…amazing," she finally said, still in that surprised tone. "It's just like you described."

"I doubt my words could ever do it justice," said Patrick, strolling over towards the pond. "But it's still exactly as I remember."

She followed him over to the pond, where he sat down just at the edge next to a small basket of bread. Reaching inside, he pulled out a large chunk, broke it into a few smaller pieces, and then held his hand up to Amber.

"Ducks are hungry," he told her. With a grin, he threw in, "And don't worry. I don't think they want the apples."

With a light chuckle, Amber took a seat next to Patrick, instantly surprised at how soft and cushiony the grass felt beneath her. She took a few pieces of bread, and spotted the approaching ducks that were now staring up at her as if to say: _down here, down here!_

Tossing the chucks of bread in the water, she watched eagerly as the ducks devoured the snack in a matter of seconds. Just as quickly, their eyes were back up and focused on Amber's now empty hand.

"When I was little," said Amber. "I always thought since ducks liked bread, they'd like things like French toast, or grilled cheese. Then I was told ducks aren't exactly like people."

Patrick chuckled, and threw a handful of bread into the water, the ducks at once migrating over to them.

"See all the little fish?" he asked, staring down into the clear water. Various colourful shapes could be seen, darting here and there, some with multi-coloured designs, while others were of solid colors.

"They're so tiny," she observed, watching them closely. "You could fit maybe thirty in your hand! That's crazy."

"Yeah, they're pretty tiny," he agreed.

"I like that one with the red spots," said Amber, pointing to one that was slowly passing by. "It's the only one like that."

"That's a neat one. I like its tail. Kind of looks like jewels."

"It does, actually," she said, examining the fish's long, glistening tail.

After spending another ten minutes relaxing by the pond, the two suddenly felt their stomachs starting to rumble. Now, glancing over at the apple trees, they looked more appetizing than when they'd first arrived. Staring at the hundreds of crisp, ripe apples, well, it was bound to get anyone's stomach growling.

"I've been eyeing those apples the second we got here," Amber said, rising to her feet and striding over towards the multiple trees.

"Well, I'd say it's time you tried one," said Patrick, following.

"I'm gonna look for the biggest one," she declared, her eyes darting from tree to tree.

"Are you now?" asked Patrick, smiling. "I'll help you look then."

The two inspected each of the trees carefully, scanning the numerous apples in search of what they judged to be the biggest. Of course, they all looked equally delicious and no doubt any one of them would have set their mouths watering with a single bite…but Amber was determined to seek out that one that would stand out from all the rest.

After a few minutes of searching, she found it.

"There!" she declared. She was pointing up to one of the thicker branches.

Patrick lifted his head to see where she was pointing, and saw it.

"Wow, I'd say that's the biggest!" he said with widened eyes. "You won't have to eat another apple with one that size."

"I could probably make a pie with that one apple," she said. Already her mouth was starting to water in anticipation.

"Now I'm really starting to get hungry," said Patrick. With that, he reached up, tore off one of the apples, took an eager bite and was treated to the scrumptious flavour that only came from fresh, ripe apples picked from a tree.

Amber, meanwhile, was busy reaching up to pluck off her own apple, but quickly realized she fell short just a few inches. Reaching up as high as she could, her hand couldn't quite reach the apple, but that didn't stop her from continuing to lean up on her toes in the hopes of grabbing hold of it.

Patrick noticed she was struggling and with a small chuckle, asked, "Want some help?"

"No, I got it," she answered, still unable to snatch up that perfect apple.

"Maybe I can reach it," he offered, walking over to it.

"It's so high up," she said. No matter of jumping or leaning up on her toes was doing any good.

"Hmm, it is pretty high," he observed. He was now standing directly beneath it. "But we'll get it down."

When Patrick found he wasn't quite tall enough to reach up and grab on to it, he then tried jumping but frustratingly, fell only a few inches short.

"It's okay," Amber told him, shrugging her shoulders. "I can just get another one."

Patrick thought for a moment, and suggested, "Wait! If you climb up onto my shoulders, we'll for sure be able to reach it."

"You don't have to go through all that," she told him quickly. "Really, the other apples are fine."

"You had your eyes on that one," Patrick reminded her and with a determined smile, said, "And I'm gonna make sure you get it."

"Well, I'm pretty bad when it comes to balance," she warned him. "Odds are I'd just fall off anyway."

"Don't worry," Patrick told her assuredly. "I'm not gonna let you fall."

"I'm gonna have to share that apple with you!" she exclaimed, walking up beside him. "For going through all this work just to help me get it."

"No need," said Patrick, crouching down. "I've got plenty to pick from." He glanced up at her, telling her, "This one's for you."

With a small smile, she slowly placed one of her feet on Patrick's shoulders. After taking a moment to steady herself, she positioned her other foot on the opposite shoulder. She then felt Patrick's hands wrap securely around her legs.

"Ready?" he asked.

"I think so," she said, keeping her eyes up on the apple. She joked, adding, "Just don't make me laugh when I'm up here. Then I'll really fall."

"No laughing, got it," said Patrick and slowly and carefully, he stood up to his full height, always maintaining hold of her legs, keeping her steady.

"Now if I can just reach up, and…" she then raised her arm, grabbed onto the tempting treat and heard the satisfying sound of it being torn off its branch. "Got it!"

"Good job," said Patrick. "Now you've got the biggest apple in the park."

When he slowly crouched back down, she jumped off his shoulders, landing surprisingly gracefully back on the ground.

Turning the apple in her hand, she remarked, "All that work for a single apple."

"You got it though," Patrick said, taking a seat beneath the giant tree. He took another bite of his own, swallowed and added, "That apple was no match for you."

"Or us," she said, sliding down next to him.

With her back pressed comfortably against the trunk of the tree, she stretched her legs out and took a hungry bite. The taste that filled her mouth was one of such sweetness, she felt this surely was the best-tasting apple of all the trees. Hardly had she finished chewing when she was already biting in for a second taste.

"I take it you're enjoying it?" asked Patrick, watching her in amusement.

"This is," and she swallowed before stating, "This is hands down the best apple I've ever eaten. It's so juicy, and crunchy, and…and just so good."

"Maybe all the best apples are way up high," Patrick suggested, leaning his head against the tree. "And that's why you have to go through so much effort to get them."

"Probably. I didn't see any apples this big on the lower branches. Of course they'd all be up higher."

While Amber carried on eating, Patrick closed his eyes contently, enjoying the simple sounds of Grand Blossom Park – birds chirping overhead, the gentle wind rustling through the treetops and kids laughing as they chased one another in in their never-ending game of tag.

"Here, you have to try it," Amber finally said, holding it out to Patrick.

He opened his eyes, looked over and said, "Oh, I'm fine."

"No, really," she insisted, placing it in his hand. "I'm too full to finish and it's only fair you get the other half."

"Well, if you insist," Patrick smiled, raising it to his mouth and taking a bite.

"Now tell me that's not the best apple you've ever eaten."

Patrick chewed, let the taste sink in and then answered, "Hundred percent, this is the best apple I've ever eaten. We did well picking this one."

While Patrick ate, Amber's eyes drifted off to a trail just on the opposite side of the park. From where she sat, she could see two people – a man and woman – slowly and silently strolling through, holding hands and letting their eyes wander to the flock of birds above.

She watched them for the longest time, not realizing that her eyes were locked on that image. It was when Patrick had finished his last bite that he noticed Amber watching them with a look of undeniable intensity. It was like she was so deep in thought, she couldn't pull herself out of it.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

When she didn't answer right away, he watched her for a moment longer, trying to read the expression on her face. It was difficult to pinpoint what exactly was going through her mind, but if he was right, he thought he noticed in her unblinking eyes, a hint of…sadness.

But why?

"Amber, you okay?" he asked again.

Now hearing his voice ring through, she turned to look at him.

"S-sorry," she said quickly, embarrassed while biting her lip. "Must have gotten distracted."

Patrick studied her face and it wasn't hard to confirm that the trace of sadness was still evident.

"Everything okay?"

Her only response was a nod of silence. Patrick could tell she was struggling against something, but it wasn't until he saw a tear sliding down her cheek that he knew without a doubt that she was undoubtedly trapped in a sea of thoughts.

"You're crying" he said gently, resting a hand on her arm. In a concerned tone, he asked, "What's wrong?"

She hesitated briefly, and uttered, "I'm sorry. I…I was just thinking."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Amber dropped her eyes to the ground, wiped the tear away quickly and answered quietly, her voice catching in her throat. "I…I was just thinking about my parents."

She then revealed to Patrick all that had caused her to break out in tears and after hearing it all, he felt she'd just opened herself up completely to him.

"When I was young," she began. "My parents never wanted me to have my own choice of what I wanted to do with my life. They had their own business they'd been running for years and with how successful they were, they wanted me to eventually take over. I didn't want to, since that wasn't something that ever interested me. I was always more into books and reading and studying and I knew right away I wanted to be a teacher. They didn't approve of it though. They kept saying I should be keeping the family business running, and when I didn't do what they wanted, they just let my brothers take over. They were more into business, but then after that, I knew they wouldn't support me. So I did what I had to in school to get myself into university but even then, that still wasn't good enough for them. Right before I graduated, they died in a plane crash. They were on their way to England as a vacation for themselves…but they never made it. No one knows why the plane crashed, but even after losing them, my brothers didn't spend much time with me. If anything, they were so busy with their own lives and their new business, they didn't have time for me. So after that, I did what I had to, to get my own apartment and get a job teaching."

Following this, all Patrick could say quietly and with empathy was, "I'm sorry, Amber."

She closed her eyes fleetingly, but just as quickly, she re-opened them and gazed back up at the now cloudy sky.

"I think back to high school sometimes," she told him, with an expression that suggested her mind was now miles away. "I couldn't wait for high school to be done. I kept wanting it all to be over so I could go to university and do what I wanted to do, but it seemed to take so long."

She paused only temporarily, before adding in a tired-sounding voice, "I didn't have many friends back then. I wasn't like other people. I didn't drink, or go to parties or skip classes, and I never had a boyfriend, so I wasn't much fun to them. It was hard because I didn't have enough in common with girls for them to want to do anything with me and guys didn't give me a second look. I kept thinking I couldn't compete with other girls, so I spent a lot of time alone. I had a lot of hobbies so when I wasn't doing schoolwork, I spent time on other things – reading, writing, painting."

Looking to Patrick, she said with emotion, "I know I've only been at Chelsea High for a week now, but…I already feel like it's home. I don't feel like anyone's judging me, and I feel like everyone's glad to have me there…especially you."

Patrick didn't know what to say.

In a grateful voice, she told him earnestly, "You're the first friend I've had in a while, Patrick. Thank you."

Patrick opened his mouth to answer, but the words of her story went on replaying themselves in his mind, over and over. Seeing the layers of sadness and doubt in her eyes made him reflect on so much in those few seconds. He recalled the first day she'd arrived at Chelsea High, how quiet and timid-looking she'd appeared and now it all made sense. She was fearing she might still be judged even then but thankfully, Chelsea High was a place that didn't judge, isolate or discriminate – it welcomed all new teachers and students.

"You'll always be welcome at Chelsea High," Patrick assured her, his brown eyes seeming brighter and warmer than ever.

Amber allowed the words to sink into her mind, and she nodded silently, not wanting to remove her gaze from Patrick's.

"And I want you to know," he went on, his voice so calm and assuring. "That whatever things were said to you back then…don't believe them for even a second. Not a single word. The fact that you were different from other people meant that you were your own person, and didn't let them change that about you. You led your own life and where so many others don't always do that…they could learn something from you. People are always quick to follow someone else and let it change them completely …but not you."

As Patrick spoke, the strangest thing then began happening. As she took in the sound of his voice, letting herself absorb the words into her mind, she felt a sense of calmness taking over her. Like a blanket, it wrapped itself all around her and even if she would have attempted blocking out what he was now telling her…it would have been futile.

In some strange and puzzling way, his voice was almost….hypnotic. Persuasive even. The words seemed to grab hold of all the doubts, negativities, worries and wash them away, leaving her mind filled with a growing sense of…tranquility.

"And though I've only known you for a week," Patrick continued, his soothing voice echoing in her now peaceful mind. "I'm glad you're at Chelsea High with us. I want to spend more time with you. You're fun, intelligent, beautiful, not afraid to be yourself and—" and Patrick paused for the briefest moment before saying sincerely, "And I just want you to know that I think you're wonderful."

What Patrick did next, he didn't even stop to think twice about, or listen to the now increasing beating of his heart. His mind was now acting all on its own and he felt there was no sense in stopping what both his mind and heart urged him to do. He felt he simply had to do this. Something in the afternoon air, or in his whispering heart, or in the way Amber stared back at him with eyes that reflected innocence, made him not even hesitate to do what he then did.

Without a word, he leaned in closer, brought his face close to hers till a few inches was all that separated them…and then kissed her softly on the cheek.

The instant his lips touched her cheek, she felt a buzz of electricity rush through her. Whether it rushed up from her head to her toes, or from her toes up to her head, she couldn't decide. All she could think was how soft his lips felt against her skin…and what it would be like if his lips were touching her own.

Before he pulled away, Patrick's face lingered next to hers for all but a few seconds. When he finally did, both weren't quite sure of what to say. Amber was still experiencing that rush of warmth that danced and tickled her face, and Patrick was still sorting out all the racing thoughts that filled his jumbled mind.

"I knew what it felt like," Patrick told her, rewinding back to his own high school years. "Feeling like you don't fit in. Thinking you can't fit in because you're not like everyone else. I spent a lot of time huddled up over books and for those years, I came to see the library as my second home. There, I could study and think in a place that was all but quiet. It allowed me to learn more about who I was and it wasn't long till I realized it was where I belonged. Learning was my escape. Nothing could shake my thoughts while in the library."

Like when Amber had been telling her own story, she was now hearing Patrick's own recounting of what his own past had been like. Just as she had opened herself up to him, he was now doing just that with her.

"I couldn't wait to start university," Patrick continued, his eyes gazing off into the far distance. "I couldn't wait to finally become a teacher. When the day finally came that I was offered the teaching job, I was thrilled, and it got even better when I was asked to become librarian of the school. It was more than I could have hoped for and it all seemed so perfect until—"

He swallowed hard, thinking back to that shattering day when his whole world had been changed forever.

"It was my first day of teaching," Patrick went on, fighting back tears at the memory. "I was just about to start my first class when Ms. Simmonds interrupted. I saw her standing at the door. I…I kept hoping it wasn't true but I knew before she even said anything what happened. I…I could sense it. I ran out of the room and down the hall, praying I was wrong, that I had to be mistaken. That's when I heard the news for myself. They—" he felt tears sliding down his cheeks as he whispered shakily, "They were shot."

If Patrick had looked at Amber just then, he would have seen his own sadness reflecting back at him from her own eyes.

He took a breath, closed his eyes and sadly murmured, "My parents were my biggest supporters growing up. If I ever doubted myself, they'd remind me how much they believed in me."

He dropped his head, let the emotion take hold of him and said in a voice that just about broke her heart, "I still can't believe they're gone."

Having lost his parents four years ago, still not a day passed by where he didn't miss them terribly.

A few seconds later, Patrick felt a hand settling overtop of his own. When he directed his head to his right, he saw Amber staring at him with an expression that mirrored his own look of sadness.

"If they were here," she told him, holding his gaze and having to fight back her own tears. "They'd be so proud of you."

It was at that exact moment – the two sitting side by side under that giant tree, their hands wrapped in the other's, having revealed their personal lives to the other – that a connection was building between them. It was a growing bond that had gradually begun forming throughout the week, but it wasn't till that moment that both Patrick and Amber felt it. Neither had to speak any words or question what it really was; they both knew too well what they saw in the other's eyes.

A connection.

And judging by how things were unfolding between them…that connection would only strengthen into something even grander.

* * *

When Patrick and Amber arrived back at the underground complex of their apartment, the two stood facing each other, both replaying the events of that afternoon.

"Thanks for taking me out today," said Amber, amazed at how quickly the day had flown by.

"You're welcome," said Patrick.

Before he could say anything more, he felt Amber pulling him into a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his shoulder, while she felt his arms wrapping around her back.

"Thanks for what you said back there," she said quietly, now sounding more at peace.

"No need to thank me," he told her kindly. "I meant what I said. Every word."

The two remained hugging for a few moments longer, and then slowly pulled apart.

"We'll have to do something like that again," Patrick suggested. He smiled, saying, "New York's a big place. Still lots of places to see."

"For sure," she agreed, smiling too.

"Well," said Patrick. "Guess I better head up. I should get started on those tests. They're next week and I'd love to get going on them."

"Good idea," said Amber, remembering. "We're testing this week too, so, might as well get started on it."

Patrick nodded, made his way into the elevator that would take him up to his apartment, and said, "See you Monday!"

"Bright and early!" she called back.

* * *

For most of that night, Patrick slept soundly. Once again, Earnest was curled up at the foot of his bed in her usual spot. He'd spent the evening working on next week's tests and had completed half of them. His plan was to finish the remaining half the following day.

He'd been sleeping soundly…till he was suddenly awoken from a startling, unexpected dream. It had come out of nowhere, and while he knew it was only a dream and a figment from his imagination, he found himself out of breath.

He couldn't remember all the details. Like pieces from a missing puzzle, he could only recall certain images and even those seemed unfocused and blurry.

He remembered the figure of a person. Who it was, he hadn't the slightest idea but whoever it was, they gave him an uneasy feeling.

He recalled hearing a loud, frightening noise that filled his ears like thunder.

Finally, he remembered having felt a great, excruciating pain pressing down on him.

 _It's only a dream_ , he reminded himself, laying back down on his side.

And while he tried nodding off to sleep…he went on staring up at the ceiling for the rest of the night, still thinking of that unsettling dream.


	7. May I Have this Dance?

The following morning, Patrick awoke to find that unsettling dream still trapped in his mind. While he knew it was a dream and only a dream, that didn't stop his mind from dwelling on it all the same, but he knew there was nothing to fear. It was perfectly common for one to get sucked into a frightening dream that felt all too real, but at the end of the day, they were tricks of the wandering mind. There was nothing about them to truly fear, as he reminded himself once more as he opened his eyes on that Sunday morning.

Just a nightmare, he told himself, his eyes shifting to his bedroom window. _That's all it was._

He didn't let himself ponder about it any longer. Besides, what reason was there to spend time dwelling on something that existed only in his mind? He knew he'd planned on completing the rest of his class's tests for that upcoming week, so sitting there in bed lost in his thought wouldn't help. He wanted to spend the day as productively as possible, so he didn't waste time crawling out of bed.

His kitten, likewise, also wanted to spend the day as productively as possible. As usual, at the top of her to-do-list was meowing and rubbing up against Patrick's legs till he led her to the kitchen for her daily breakfast.

"Morning, Earnest," said Patrick, opening the blinds of his glass-paned window. "Lots to do today."

Instantly, the orange kitten jumped off the bed, trotted over to him and nuzzled her head into his leg.

"Yup, lots to do today," he repeated.

Earnest stared up at him with unblinking eyes and meowed loudly.

"What?" he asked, looking down at her, his lips breaking out in the tiniest of a smile. "You think I'm forgetting something? I was just going to go shower, get dressed and have some breakfast and then finish those tests. What's wrong with that?"

Earnest continued her morning meowing, not shifting her gaze from his.

"Oh yeah!" said Patrick, scooping her up in his arms. "Can't forget your breakfast. Silly me."

The kitten appeared satisfied with this answer. She flickered her tail back and forth slowly, while purring loudly.

As Patrick had planned, he spent that afternoon working away at completing the rest of the tests he'd be assigning his class that week. While he worked, Earnest kept him company by lying comfortably in his lap, occasionally glancing up at him as if to say: time for lunch yet? No matter what he was doing – working on teaching assignments, reading or watching a Yankees game – Earnest never failed to keep him company.

* * *

When Monday finally rolled around, Patrick's students were all seated at their desks, waiting for him to announce who would be first to complete the holographic search test. It came as no surprise to anyone to see that Em was fully prepared and based on her previous academic achievements, they'd be shocked if she scored less than a hundred percent. There was no doubt she'd make a fantastic teacher or librarian, what with how much she liked the course.

"Bet you'll get a hundred," Jay commented, who always sat across from her.

Em shrugged, and answered, "Maybe not."

"Course you will," Jay shot back with a little smile. "If there's anyone in the class who's acing this test, it's you. I'll be happy with a pass."

"You'll do good," she assured him, sounding relaxed and not nervous even the slightest. "Mr. Mac said he's never had anyone fail his tests before."

When Mr. Mac entered the room, he set his leather satchel down on his desk, turned to face his class and asked with an enthusiastic smile, "So who's ready to ace this?"

He could tell by their expressions that most were ready and he knew there was no need to worry. As Three-Dimensional Searching was often one of the tests students performed exceptionally well on, he felt confident this class would perform just as well.

"It's not hard, right?" asked Jay, always one to joke before a test. "I mean, it's passable?"

"Is it hard? That depends," his teacher replied. "Did you review the material?"

"Yeah," said Jay, scratching his head. "More than last time."

"Then you shouldn't struggle with it," Patrick explained, setting up his own holographic platform. "It's absolutely passable."

"Can I go first?" Jay asked quickly. "To get it over with?"

"Eager to get started?" asked Patrick. He then smiled and said, "Sure. You're up first then, Jay. As for the rest of you, if you'd each like to wait out in the hall till I call you in. Each test should only take a couple of minutes. You'll search up the major facts for your topics and then present those to me, so I certainly don't expect you to search up everything. That might take the rest of the year, so for testing purposes, we'll keep it short, simple and easy."

As anticipated, the class did remarkably well, with each student achieving a grade of eighty percent or higher. If they continued to perform as well as they were, Patrick felt they'd be more than ready for the end-of-the-year cumulative exam.

"You all did excellent!" Patrick said to them, sitting back down at his desk. "I knew you'd all ace it and sure enough you did. Well done."

"No tests for a while though, right?" asked Jay, heading for the door.

"Next test will be the week before Christmas break," said Patrick. "So from now till then, you've got a bit of a break."

Jay punched a fist in the air, uttering with excitement, "Sweet!"

As Patrick was checking the reminders on his comm, he didn't notice that Em had strolled up to his desk.

"Hi, Mr. Mac."

"Hey, Em," he answered, setting his comm down. "What's up?"

"Not much," she said casually. "I was just thinking about the school dance coming up. I know it's not till the end of the month and all, but I've been thinking about it lately."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, myself and a few other students were actually trying to see what teachers might like to come and chaperone? We've got three volunteers so far, but we still need two more. The committee and I have been doing all the planning and so far, it's been going great, but we're still short on two volunteers."

"Why do I have the feeling I know where this conversation is leading?" said Patrick out loud, leaning back in his chair and staring up at her with a small smile. "I've gotten very good at reading what's on all of your minds."

Em gave a small chuckle and said, "We can't have a school dance without you, Mr. Mac. You're the coolest teacher here. We just couldn't call it a dance without you there."

"Sure you could," said Patrick.

"No, really," Em went on. "We all want you to come."

Patrick shrugged and answered, "I'm sure one of the other teachers won't mind going."

"You won't mind coming though, right?" asked Em, her mind already flashing ahead to what the next part of her plan was. _If I can just get Mr. Mac to agree to come, the next part should be easy._

Patrick stared up at Em, trying to read her thoughts but was coming up empty.

"Of course I don't mind," Patrick explained. "What I don't understand is what difference does it make whether or not I'm there?"

"Come on, Mr. Mac!" said Em, giving him a smile. "You're pretty much everyone's favourite teacher. It just wouldn't be the same without you there."

"So you really think I should go?" asked Patrick finally.

"For sure," said Em with confidence. "If you agree to come, then we just need one more teacher to come."

"Have anyone in mind for who else you'd like to ask?" asked Patrick, already sure he knew exactly who Em intended on approaching.

"Not yet," said Em quickly. _Oh, I know exactly who I'm going to ask! There's only one other teacher I'd think of asking and I bet you know who it is too!_ "But I'm gonna ask around, see what teachers are free that night."

"Alright," said Patrick at last. "Well, if you really want me at the dance, then I'll be there, but don't expect to see any dancing from me."

"Oh, you have to dance!" Em exclaimed.

"Goodness no, I don't dance," said Patrick with a light chuckle. "But you'd better get going to your next class. Well done again on the test today. I knew you'd all do great."

"Right," said Em, turning and striding for the door. "So you'll be there, right?"

"I'll be there," said Patrick.

"Just one more thing," said Em. "Make sure to dress up!"

Patrick raised an eyebrow, chuckled and asked, "What for?"

Em was silent for a moment, then answered casually, "Makes it more fun that way."

"Alright then," said Patrick, going along with it.

"So you'll be there?" asked Em again. "In a tux?"

"I'll see what I can do," was Patrick's response. He then waved her off good-naturedly, saying, "You better get going though! Class is starting soon."

Satisfied, Em then exited the room and with a pleased smile, she instantly made her way to one of the other classrooms. It was only one room over from Mr. Mac's and she still had just a few minutes left before her next class, so she figured she'd have plenty of time to execute the next part of her plan. If this second part of the plan proved successful, then she had no doubt she'd be able to help pull off the final phase of this plan. As for the plan itself, she knew so long as there were no interruptions or major roadblocks, then these two teachers would take care of the rest.

 _It's perfect_ , thought Em, assembling all the pieces together in her head. _Now if I can just persuade her to come, then my work here will be done. The rest will take care of itself._

As she was strolling into the classroom, she couldn't help think: _I wonder how long it'll take you to say those three magic words, Mr. Mac?_

* * *

When all the students had left for their next class, Patrick remained sitting at his desk for the next ten minutes, his mind drifting to a thousand places. He had another twenty minutes till he'd be transitioning from his role as a teacher, to that of a librarian. He thought back to when he'd first started working at Chelsea High, back when he feared how he'd be able to juggle the duties of both a teacher and librarian. At the time, it had seemed like a boatload of work and he wondered more than once if he could truly handle the responsibilities but after a few weeks at work...it became a world he could feel all but confident in.

What pulled him out his thoughts was a familiar voice.

"Hey."

Patrick directed his focus to the door and saw his next-door neighbour strolling in.

"Why hello, Ms. Norm," said Patrick formally, sending her a welcoming smile. "So nice of you to drop in!"

She smiled in return and replied in an equally formal tone, "Good afternoon, Mr. Mac. Such a pleasure to see you again."

The two chuckled at the exchange.

"What's up?" asked Patrick.

"It seems that I've been cordially invited to attend the school's upcoming dance," she stated.

"Well isn't that funny," Patrick remarked, drumming his fingers along the polished, wooden table. "I was also invited. I'm curious...who gave you the invitation?"

"Em Stickler."

"Ah!" Patrick exclaimed, it all making sense now. "Of course. She said they still needed two teachers to volunteer, and how coincidental she just happened to ask the two of us."

Amber shrugged and with a half-smile, declared, "Teenagers."

"Yes, teenagers," Patrick agreed, shaking his head. "Always up to something."

"She's quite smart though," said Amber.

"She's certainly one of my brightest students," Patrick told her. "She'll make a great teacher or librarian someday, but as of right now…I think she's got her mind on something else."

"You think so?" asked Amber.

"I'm almost positive," was his answer. "She was quite persistent in getting me to agree to attend the dance."

"They seem to like you," she offered, setting her shoulder bag on the desk. "Maybe they just want one of their favourite teachers there."

Patrick thought for a moment, setting his gaze on the rows of desks. Finally, he looked back up at Amber and said, "Perhaps. But I think it goes a little beyond just that. Did she ask that you dress up, by any chance?"

Amber nodded. "She did. Why? Did she ask you to?"

"She certainly did," said Patrick, leaning back in his chair, feeling like he was now playing the role of a detective. "Now I wonder why she'd want both you and I at the dance, all dressed up and fancy?"

Amber and Patrick locked eyes momentarily, both now on the same page as to what Em had had in mind when she'd invited the two to the dance.

"She's clever," Amber heard Patrick say. "I'll give her that. She's definitely clever. But she can't get anything past me. I know what's on her mind."

"So you think she's…what," Amber said, running through the possibilities. " _Watching_ us?"

Patrick crossed his arms and looked Amber right in the eye, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "That's exactly what I think she's doing," he answered bluntly.

"But… _why_?" asked Amber, puzzled at the thought.

"Why, I'm not sure of," Patrick said, stumped. "But I'll bet you anything she's now taken on the role of Cupid."

"Just without wings and the arrow," Amber threw in, breaking out in a small laugh.

Patrick laughed and went on, "Yeah, essentially. Give her the arrow and wings and she's basically Cupid."

There was a short pause, and then Amber asked, "Are you going?"

"To the dance?" said Patrick. "I don't see as I have a choice. She was so insistent on convincing me it wouldn't be the same without me there, so I figured I better go. Not that I plan on dancing, though. I'm a _terrible_ dancer."

"Ever dance before?" she asked.

"Uhh…not really," Patrick admitted. "But I'd be willing to bet on it that if I _did_ , I'd be less than amateur."

"Oh, I doubt that," Amber shot back, locking eyes with him. "Step out on the dance floor, and I'm sure you'd know what to do."

"Ooh, I don't know about that," said Patrick, running his fingers through his hair. "I might be a teacher and a librarian…but I'm simply not a dancer."

"You'll dance a bit though, right?" said Amber, frowning as best she could. Patrick could tell she was fighting back a smile though.

"Well, I don't know," said Patrick slowly, giving his arms a stretch. "That's a pretty big question you're asking. I might need some time to think about it."

"Come on, Pat!" said Amber jokingly. "You're not scared of dancing, are you?"

Patrick let out a big smile, while telling her, "I'm not really a Pat kind of guy."

"Oops," said Amber quickly. "Sorry. I didn't—"

" _But_ ," he went on. "I guess I can make an exception." He thought for a few seconds, then told her, "I don't mind you calling me Pat."

"That's okay. If you don't like the name, I can always—"

"No, really," said Patrick. "I don't mind at all. Normally, I don't like being called Pat…but it sounds different coming from you. I know that probably sounds weird, but…I don't mind hearing it from you."

"Alright," said Amber, placing her shoulder bag at her side once more. "So back to my original question. Will you be dancing at this dance?"

"Oh, okay!" said Patrick, surrendering. "I'll dance, but just warning you now…I'll be _terrible_!"

"You won't be terrible," she assured him. "I'll help you out."

"So you're going too, then?" he asked her.

"Like you said. Em was pretty persuasive about getting me to come. She kept saying since I'm new and all that I wouldn't want to miss the first dance of the year, and that it'd be fun to get all dressed up and have some fun. She did make a good point though, how teachers have to have some fun too. I've got to hand it to her…she knows how to pull you in."

"That she does," said Patrick. "Well, I look forward to seeing you at the dance then."

"Likewise," said Amber, turning to leave. With a playful wink, she said, "And I look forward to seeing you dance!"

"I better get practicing then," Patrick joked.

"Me too!" she called back, and strolled out of the classroom.

* * *

The next three weeks couldn't have flown by any quicker. Em and the other members of Chelsea High's social committee – Shana, Casey and Nicole – were hard at work preparing for the upcoming event. The four were responsible for coming up with the specific design of the dance, color theme and overall structure. As this was their fourth year on the committee, the four had become efficient in organizing such events.

When Em revealed to the others her secretive plan involving Patrick and Amber, the three immediately voiced their approval to her.

"You think you can get them to dance?" asked Casey.

"Should be able to," said Em, sounding as confident as ever. "Dim the lights, play some music…and everything should fall into place."

"They're so cute together," said Shana, the hopeless romantic of the group. "The way he looks at her when they're together…it's adorable."

"They are pretty cute together," Nicole agreed.

"You think Amber knows Patrick likes her?" asked Shana curiously. "I don't know if he's told her yet, but I wonder if she knows how he feels?"

"That I'm not sure of," Em answered, jotting down some notes on a piece of paper. "I don't know what happens behind the scenes but at the school, you can't miss the smiles they give each other, and the fact that Mr. Mac now seems to be daydreaming, well…there's a reason he's day dreaming."

"Nothing like a little dancing to help bring two love birds together," said Nicole, twirling her hair between her fingers. "Nice thinking, Em."

"It wasn't me," Em told her. "I'm just helping to orchestrate what they both know is already going to happen."

"And you think it'll help?" asked Shana.

"We'll soon find out," was Em's response.

The dance was held on Friday, September 30th, and it couldn't have been held on a more perfect evening. At this point in the year, the school workload was at its lowest, so it always made for a great time to kick back, relax and have some fun. Along with the first dance of the semester, a second dance was normally held closer to Christmas, but there was always something exciting about attending the first dance of a new school year.

Like all the previous dances, the vast gymnasium was once more decked out in sparkling colors and flashing lights that lit up the room like it was alive. Positioned overhead and in the center of the room was the classic disco ball that sprayed the floor, walls and ceiling in a shower of shimmering light. Wherever one's eyes turned, they were met with dazzling shades of reds, blues, greens, yellows and purples. Each color seemed to blend in seamlessly with the other and when standing amongst the ongoing explosions of light, it was almost magical.

Various seating tables were placed throughout the room, some decorated in colors of deep blues, others showing off ruby reds. Trays of foods and drinks were also situated throughout the room, offering sandwiches, fruit and veggie trays, cheese and crackers, chocolate fountains, chips and dip, bowls of candies, bite-sized chocolates and anything from sparkling water to almost every kind of soda for those craving something sugary.

Em Stickler and the rest of the committee were of course first to arrive, as they'd spent the past few hours helping to get everything ready. In no time at all, students were strolling eagerly into the now multi-coloured room, all dressed up and ready for the first dance of the year.

"Great job with the decorations this year!" Shana exclaimed, giving Em a high-five. "Looks like it'll be the best one yet."

"Agreed," said Em with a smile. "Should be a fun time."

"Are all the teachers here yet?" asked Nicole, her eyes watching the open doorway.

"Almost," Em answered. She quickly counted what teachers were currently present, concluding that all but two had yet to arrive. "We're just short on two. They should be here any minute."

"I hope they're coming," said Casey, taking a sip of cola.

"Oh, they will," Em assured them, helping herself to one of the chocolates. "The fact that both know that the other is coming, well, they won't want to miss out. It's the perfect opportunity for them to, how do I word this…dance further into love!"

"Aren't you Miss Romance tonight," said Casey with a light chuckle. "So will you be sharing a dance with anyone special?"

Em shrugged, and said, "Who knows?"

"You and Jay should dance!" Shana suggested, lightly nudging her in the shoulder. "You're quite cute together."

Em chuckled, shook her head and asked, "Me and Jay, huh? You really think we should hit the dance floor later?"

"Absolutely!" the three girls answered with enthusiasm.

"Well, we'll see," Em told them. She picked up another chocolate, popped it into her mouth and remarked, "What I'm hoping to see tonight though is Mr. Mac and Ms. Norm get swept up on that dance floor."

Shana smiled, and said somewhat dreamily, "Such a shame Mr. Mac's ten years older than all of us. I bet he's a great dancer. And I bet he looks so good in a tux!"

Em laughed at the comment, and replied, "I'm sure there's plenty of gentlemen out there to sweep you off your feet, Shana."

"Ms. Norm is so lucky though," she went on.

"Poor Shana, crushing on the teacher," said Nicole playfully.

"No I don't," she shot back quickly, stuffing a chocolate into her mouth. "I just think he's cute. That's all."

The four then spotted a new arrival making his way into the room. He was dressed formally in a black tuxedo, white shirt, bow tie, matching shoes and even from where they stood, his brown eyes looked to have a special sparkle in them tonight. As he entered the room, he was immediately greeted by the other teachers.

"There he is!" Casey exclaimed. "Guess he was in the mood for dancing." She then called out, "Hey, Mr. Mac!"

Patrick looked, acknowledged her with a smile and a wave, and then made his way over to Matt and the others.

"What did I say?" said Shana, her eyes now on Mr. Mac. "He's even cuter in a tux!"

"All that's missing now is Ms. Norm," Em announced. "As soon as she shows up, my work here will be done."

"Bet you anything those two will be the cutest couple here tonight," Nicole proposed.

"No arguments there," Shana chimed in.

Em gave a small chuckle, and said, "Yeah, they probably will be. No doubt all eyes will be on those two tonight."

"You think he'll kiss her?" asked Casey.

Em thought that over, shrugged, and answered, "That depends."

"On what?"

"On if it's the right moment," was her straightforward reply.

"But they like each other," said Shana, puzzled at Em's response. "And if they're dancing, and under the lights, and the music's playing and they're holding each other close…how is that not the perfect time to kiss?"

"He'll know when the time's right," said Em, sounding sure of herself as ever.

"If you say so," said Nicole.

"He will," Em repeated, still her typical confident self. "Because that's the way it was meant to be."

"Ooh, sounds philosophical," joked Shana with a laugh.

Em smiled, turned her attention to Mr. Mac and thought to herself: You'll know when the time's right, Mr. Mac. You'll know.

Upon entering the vast room, the first person to greet Patrick was Matt Brenner.

"And Mr. Mac officially joins the party!" Matt exclaimed, giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder.

"Hey, Matt," said Patrick. "So you decided to attend too, eh?"

"Sure, why not?" said Matt. "I figured, why not, since I didn't have much else going on." He then smiled, whistled and joked, "Look at you all dressed up and fancy. Special occasion?"

"Nah," said Patrick. "Just felt like dressing up, I guess."

"Well, you beat all of us," said Matt, loading up on a plate of the scrumptious looking snacks. "No way can we go up against a guy in a tux. And really…how can we go up against the youngest teacher of the school?"

"Correction though," said Patrick quickly, his eyes falling on the chocolate fountain. "I'm no longer the school's youngest teacher."

"Oh, that's right," said Matt, remembering. "Ms. Norm would now be the youngest teacher. She's coming tonight, right?"

Patrick nodded, and answered while looking over his shoulder, "Should be here any minute."

"You two going to dance?" asked Matt, enjoying himself to a helping of chocolate-dipped fruit.

"Apparently so," said Patrick. "I told her I would, though I don't know much when it comes to dancing." He picked up one of the delicious-looking chocolate-dipped strawberries, popped it in his mouth and wondered how he'd ever get to dancing when all these mouth-watering delicacies had yet to be eaten?

"Ah, you'll do fine," Matt said reassuringly, also enjoying the chocolate-coated strawberries. "Just let the music do the work."

"Maybe I ought to stay by the chocolate fountain," Patrick suggested, a smile crossing his face. "Someone's got to be here to ensure all this food doesn't go to waste, right?"

"True," said Matt, and then joked saying, "So you don't mind if Amber and I share a dance then?"

Patrick swallowed another strawberry, looked over at Matt, held his gaze for a moment, and then announced so quickly that Matt actually burst out laughing, "Change of plans! You stay here and take care of the food, while I dance with Amber."

Still laughing, Matt replied, "Looks like you've got your mind set on dancing then."

"Guess so," said Patrick, hoping he'd learn as he went. "I wonder when she'll be—"

It was then that Patrick found himself unable to speak; his mind and thoughts were now focused solely on someone else. When he'd turned, he hadn't expected to see her making her way into the now busy room, but there she was. In walked Amber Norm, wearing a black-and-white polka-dotted strapless dress that fell to her knees, with a simple, heart-shaped diamond necklace and black flats. Wrapped around her waist was a black bow tie, and like before, her hair was again flowing freely down her back.

"I, uh…" was all Patrick got out, before he was once again at a loss for words.

"Well, what do you know?" said Matt, clapping Patrick on the shoulder. "Mr. Mac at a loss for words! Unbelievable. Never thought I'd see the day."

Patrick shook himself together, but still couldn't take his eyes off Amber.

"I am not at a loss for words," Patrick shot back, blinking. "I'm just, uh…"

"Yeah, he's at a loss for words," Matt uttered under his breath. "Well, my friend, you two going to show us all how dancing is done, or what?"

"She just got here!" Patrick exclaimed. "Dancing's not till later."

"I'll be sure to keep my eyes open then," said Matt, his attention once more on the plates of food. "And everyone else will do the same. You two will be right in the spotlight, I bet. All eyes will be on you, my friend."

"Thank you, Matt," said Patrick, shaking his head and wanting to laugh. "That makes an already nervous guy feel so much better."

"Don't mention it," said Matt with a smile. "It's what I'm here for."

Patrick was just about to walk over to Amber, when her eyes then fell on him. Amidst all the music, dancing bodies, flashing lights and laughing voices, the two stood there silently, simply staring at the other like they had all the time in the world.

When she approached him, she gave him a friendly smile and remarked, "Hey stranger!"

"Hey," Patrick smiled, unable to avert his eyes from her own. He paused momentarily before adding in a dumbfounded voice, "You…you look stunning."

She smiled at the compliment, feeling her cheeks flush with red.

"Thank you," she answered. She too paused for a moment, and then said, "And might I add that you look…dashing."

Patrick chuckled lightly. "Glad you think so. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to pull off the whole tux-look."

"You pull it off quite well," she commented, noticing that Patrick most certainly did. "You look...like a gentleman."

"Thank you," said Patrick. Looking around the room, he asked, "So what do you think?"

"It's awesome!" she exclaimed, taking in so many different colors, shapes and patterns. "The colors, lighting, music…it's all so perfect. Who did all of this?"

"Em, Casey, Shana and Nicole," he answered. "They're the school's social committee. They help plan and organize events like this. They've been at it for a while now and they certainly know what they're doing. More than I would anyway."

Her eyes then fell on one of the tables that held what appeared to be a gloriously delicious looking chocolate fountain.

"Is that a chocolate fountain?" she asked excitedly, pointing to their left.

Patrick followed her gaze and said, "Sure is."

"I've always wanted to try one of those," she went on, eyeing the fountain hungrily.

"Don't be shy then," Patrick encouraged, leading her over to it. "Help yourself. I think I hear it calling your name."

When the two were standing in front of the fountain of chocolate, Amber examined the tray of various fruits laid out next to it – strawberries, apples, cherries, kiwi, pears and bananas. The display of fruit looked scrumptious all on its own but dipped in a layer of sweet, warm chocolate, she couldn't imagine how much tastier they'd be.

"Oh, I _love_ chocolate!" said Amber, the excitement still palpable in her voice. "Always does the trick for a sweet tooth. Every time. Nothing better than a helping of chocolate."

"You have a sweet tooth now?" Patrick asked, enjoying watching her growing excitement.

"Twenty-eight, to be exact," she told him, choosing one of the strawberries. "With this much chocolate, I can't just have one sweet tooth."

"Ah, makes sense," said Patrick. He picked up a strawberry himself, dipped it into the fountain and declared, "Well, I'm sure this should crush all your cravings."

"For sure," she agreed.

When she'd swallowed, she was left with the sweet aftertaste that never failed to leave one craving the delight that was chocolate all over again.

"That…is _amazing_ ," she said, at once reaching for one of the apple slices. "Whoever invented the chocolate fountain is a genius."

"No arguments there," said Patrick, chuckling. "Chocolate really is the universal cure for a sweet tooth."

"A hundred and ten percent," Amber said, trying a chocolate-dipped slice of apple. Only a moment after she'd swallowed and she was preparing a second. "You have to try this!"

"Apples and chocolate?" said Patrick curiously. "Hmm, bet that'd be good."

"It is!" she exclaimed, coating one of the slices in the pool of delectable chocolate. "It's like the two were made for each other. Here, try it."

She reached out, placed the treat into his mouth and smiled in anticipation while waiting to see his reaction. Just as she guessed, it came almost instantaneously.

"Amazing," was all Patrick said.

"That's a good way of putting it," she said.

"You know what _else_ is amazing?" he asked her. "Chocolate and watermelon."

He picked up one of the slices, dipped it in the flowing chocolate, and placed it in Amber's mouth. The sweet mixture of juicy watermelon and milk chocolate was one she wouldn't have thought to be so irresistibly delightful. After that one bite, she felt she could go on eating them till her stomach could take no more.

"Now that's amazing," said Amber, looking to Patrick with a satisfied smile.

The two burst out laughing, and then wasted no time in helping themselves to a second, scrumptious round of chocolate-dipped fruit.

From across the room, Em and the other girls were dancing while watching the two teachers enjoying their feast of fruit.

"Isn't that so cute?" sighed Shana, her attention no longer focused on the lights or music.

"What?" asked Casey.

"Mr. Mac and Ms. Norm!" she answered. "Feeding each other fruit and all…so romantic."

Em chuckled, and said, "I'm sure Mr. Mac would appreciate knowing his students are watching him so closely."

"I can't help it," said Shana defensively, her face still wearing a smile. "They're just so sweet together."

"Careful there, Shana," said Nicole jokingly. "Wait till they get dancing. The romance of it all might be too much for you. Don't want you passing out."

"Very funny, Nicole," said Shana, laughing at the joke. "Don't worry. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"So what do you think, Em?" asked Casey. "You think it's time we slowed things down a bit?"

Em nodded thoughtfully, and answered, "Yeah, I'd say now's good. They've had some sweets but now seems as good a time as ever to switch moods."

She then made her way over to the D.J. while calling back to the girls, "Be right back."

"Gonna slow things down a bit?" asked Shana.

"Something like that."

As for the rest of the students, most were now dancing either solo, or in groups and were thoroughly enjoying themselves. What with the catchy music and shower of lights that lit up every aspect of the room, even those who weren't the best of dancers suddenly found they were able to develop a kind of rhythm while letting the music act as their guide. Most of the songs and tunes that had played so far had been full of speed and energy, but it was now that all noticed a change in the air.

The pattern of lights was now shifting. The bright, vibrant colors of reds, greens and yellows were now vanishing to make way for softer shades of whites, blues and purples. Sparkles now shimmered throughout the room in a seemingly endless fashion, bathing the room in a blanket of gleaming diamonds. The shades of sapphire blues, snowy whites, and orchid purples danced along the walls and ceiling, making the ceiling look more like an evening sky filled with thousands of twinkling stars.

Gone now was the fast-paced music of energy; now filling the room was a tune that began as a soft, almost inaudible sound. But almost instantly, it gave way to a tune that spoke in a soothing, flute-like voice that was rather hypnotic. It was impossible to mistake this new melody as anything but a song meant for slow dancing.

Already pairs of students were making their way onto the floor under the softly glowing lights. Still standing off to the side, however, were Em and the girls. Em would have been perfectly content with standing there watching if not for the fact that they had already gestured for Jay to come over and sweep her onto the dance floor.

"You gotta have some fun too," Shana smiled, waving for her to follow Jay.

"Tonight's not about me though," she shot back with a little smile. She pointed to the opposite side of the room, declaring, "Tonight's about those two."

"Don't worry," Casey assured her, taking a sip of soda. "Give it a few minutes and those two will be dancing away in a sea of love."

Em then turned to Jay and asked playfully, "You know how to dance, right?"

"Come on!" said Jay, taking her hand and leading her onto the floor. "Give me some credit. I know the basics.

"The basics?" asked Em, raising a brow.

"Uh, well, let's just say I do," said Jay with a wink and after pulling her into his arms, the two were dancing away.

Patrick and Amber, meanwhile, were still standing next to the chocolate fountain and trays of fresh fruits. Hearing the shift of music and seeing the dramatic display of soft, sparkling lights though, stirred something inside them. Patrick was all too familiar with that bubbling sensation; he'd been struck by it all too often lately. Whether he was sitting with Amber at lunch, or running alongside her through a vast field of grass, or standing next to her under a shower of shimmering light, it tickled at something he still had yet to fully uncover.

"Well," said Patrick, now suddenly sounding like a shy, sixteen year old. "I guess now's as good a time as any to, um…"

"Dance?" asked Amber, finishing his sentence.

"D-dance, yes," said Patrick quickly. He ran his fingers through his long, brown hair nervously, and said awkwardly, "I should have taken dance lessons. I…I don't know how I'll do, dancing and all…"

"Aw, don't even worry about it," she told him, placing a hand on his shoulder, a rush of warmth spreading through his body like a blazing fire. "You'll do fine."

"I hope so."

"Besides," she said, and leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. "The key to good dancing is not overthinking. Just hear the music…and the rest will take care of itself. I promise."

"That's encouraging," said Patrick, hoping that was indeed the case. While he might not have ever had much experience or practice with the art of dancing, he had to hope somehow, he'd simply know what to do.

Before stepping onto the dance floor, however, Patrick said to Amber, "Wait."

She turned to him, and joked, "Still want to keep eating?"

"No, it's just—" he said, and then reached out and took one of her hands into his own. "That wasn't a very official way to ask if you'd like to dance with me." He then cleared his throat, lifted her hand to his lips, kissed it softly, and in a voice he hoped sounded charming enough, asked, "Amber Norm…may I have this dance?"

Amber chuckled, looked him straight in the eye and answered, "I'd love to dance…Patrick Mac."

"Did I not say that right?" asked Patrick, wondering if her laughter was due to his attempt at sounding chivalrous.

"You said it absolutely right," she told him. Staring into his eyes just then, she proceeded to erase the space between them, wrapped her arms around his neck, and uttered quietly, "You're as chivalrous as any knight in shining armour…just a few thousand years in the future."

"Without the armour," Patrick added, chuckling lightly.

"Armour or no armour," said Amber, resting a hand on his cheek. "You're perfect to me."

Patrick felt a rush of electricity spreading through him. He stared at her for what felt like the longest moment before pressing his forehead against hers, murmuring, "And you're perfect to me."

Without a word, he took her hand once more into his and led her onto the dance floor, the hundreds of glittering lights enveloping them both. As he led her to the center of the room, Patrick hoped that whatever it was that helped people like him transform into dancers would work its magic tonight. While he might have been a historian and an intellectual, he wasn't too sure how he'd perform when it came to dancing. Moreover, he wasn't sure how great a dancer he'd be dancing with a woman that never failed to reach somewhere inside him and ignite a storm of sparks.

 _It's only dancing_ , he reminded himself, trying to block out all thoughts of doubt. _How hard can it be? Sure, you've never really danced before but if everyone else can do it, why can't you? Can't be that difficult, unless I accidently step on her foot or something…oh dear._

When they reached the center of the room, Patrick recalled previous times he'd watched people dance. He never understood how they all seemed to move so effortlessly, so gracefully, but he did conclude that it was a dance based solely and purely on teamwork. If that was indeed the case, then he wondered if just maybe he could become that kind of dancer for tonight.

"I bet you'll be the best dancer in this room," Amber told him, sounding far more confident than Patrick felt.

"I-I don't know about that," he said but before he could say anything further, he immediately felt Amber's other arm wrapping around his shoulder. Suddenly, he'd forgotten what he was about to say, and was now thinking only of the here and now.

He silently brought his other arm around Amber's waist, and in a matter of seconds, it occurred to him that this felt…right. The enchanting, flute-like music, the never-ending display of glistening lights, something about this atmosphere seemed to speak to them both. Whatever words were whispered in their ears like secrets in the wind, they sounded familiar, comforting, and both Patrick and Amber hoped to soon hear them in their entirety.

At this point, no words needed to be spoken. Amber's right hand was locked securely in place with Patrick's left, and with her other arm resting on his shoulder and his wrapped around her back…they couldn't have been more ready to let the music sweep them away.

To Patrick's surprise, Amber had been entirely right when she'd mentioned hearing the music and letting everything else simply fall into place. As the ongoing music filled the room, Patrick let himself direct his focus solely on that and without having to think hardly about it, his feet seemed to know exactly what to do. Anyone else catching sight of the two swaying back and forth in harmonious rhythm would have supposed they'd been dancing their whole lives.

That was exactly what it felt like to Patrick. In the strangest way that somehow made absolute sense, he needn't have worried about having little to no experience with dancing, since the music served as the perfect guide. What with how relaxed and dream-like of an atmosphere they'd now become wrapped up in, he wondered why he'd ever feared stepping on her feet. The combination of music, lighting and dancing quickly led him to conclude that all of this couldn't have felt any more natural.

"Not too hard, is it?" asked Amber softly.

"No, it's…surprisingly easy," said Patrick.

"Like riding a bike easy?" she smiled, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Yeah," said Patrick, falling just as heavily into that dreamlike, distant state. "Exactly."

"I wouldn't mind spending the rest of the night like this," she whispered, closing her eyes while feeling his warm breath tickling the back of her neck.

"Not gonna fall asleep on me, are you?" asked Patrick, his eyes also closed.

"I don't know," she answered, a small laugh escaping her. "Your shoulder makes a pretty nice pillow."

"That's kind of you to say," said Patrick, also chuckling. "Well, if you'd like to use my shoulder as a pillow, then I have no problem with that."

As the two carried on dancing, Patrick found himself growing more sure of himself, more confident that he knew what he was doing. Unlike his academic life that involved so much research and studying, he hadn't done any real preparation for this, but now it looked as if he needn't have bothered. The simple joy of holding Amber in his arms was all he really needed to help guide and tell him what to do.

It wasn't long till he no longer thought of it as dancing. No, it felt more and more like the music was a vast cushion, lifting them both up in a way that in any story would be described as downright magical. What was it, thought Patrick, that made something as simple as dancing seem so incredibly…uplifting?

Whatever it was had gotten hold of both teachers.

When Amber finally lifted her head from his shoulder to look up into his eyes, Patrick realized more than ever how beautiful she looked. What with her silky brown hair, her chocolate brown eyes and the hundreds of sparkling lights that lit up her entire body, she looked like a diamond herself.

"You look so beautiful," Patrick whispered, unable to avert his gaze from hers.

She felt her cheeks flush with red, and dropped her gaze only briefly before whispering back, "And you couldn't look any more handsome."

Patrick smiled at her and without exchanging any words, the two pulled themselves even closer together. No longer were the two dancing as two separate people; they were now dancing as one. And while they might not have become aware of this since they were so caught up in this world of their own, sets of eyes were now focused on them. From where they danced, Em peered over Jay's shoulder, secretly and silently calling to Mr. Mac to take that next step. From where they stood, the teachers were watching them, each wearing a small smile that told the other they knew exactly what they were witnessing between these two.

 _Well done, Mr. Mac_ , thought Em, sensing the emotional connection between the dancing teachers even from across the room. _Now all that's left is for you two to close that gap completely._

"I think I've got the hang of this," said Patrick, sounding more sure of himself.

"Now you're a teacher, librarian, historian, and a dancer," Amber told him, resting her cheek against his own. "I'm learning something new about you everyday, Mr. Mac. Anything else I should know about you?"

"If anything new pops up, I'll let you know," he answered, his breath sending shivers down her back. "Although…there is something I'd love to try."

"What's that?" she asked curiously.

Patrick gave her that irresistibly charming smile and declared, "Taking our dancing to the next step!"

Without saying another word, Patrick raised his arm and as if she'd read his mind, Amber surprised him with a graceful, nearly effortless twirl. As she spun, Patrick's eyes were drawn to her and without realizing it, he was smiling all over again. When she was once again back in his arms, his eyes widened and for that moment, he felt speechless.

"You're…you're a natural!" he exclaimed. "You sure you aren't a professional dancer?"

Amber shrugged and said humbly, "No, I just danced a lot as a kid."

"Well, you certainly know a thing or two more than I do," Patrick replied.

"I wouldn't say that," said Amber, her eyes locked on his.

"Why not?" he asked. "You seem like a great dancer."

Bringing her face closer to his, she brought her lips just inches from his ear, and with a hint of shyness in her voice, whispered, "You're an amazing person, and that's what makes me a great dancer. You."

Patrick didn't know how to respond to that. It was like his mind was now white, blank and unable to process what she was saying.

"I...I'm not amazing," he uttered quietly, dropping his gaze briefly. "I…I'm just a teacher. I'm nothing special."

"You're right about a lot of things, Patrick," Amber told him, caressing his cheek. "But you're one hundred percent wrong about that."

"But, I—"

"You are an _amazingly_ special person," she told him, her voice now the only sound Patrick could hear amidst everything else. "You're so many things, Patrick Mac. Smart. Handsome. Caring. Hard-working. Funny."

Neither one of them even noticed now the sound of the music filling the room, nor did they take in the continuing flashing of diamond-like lights. They only saw each other and letting the words seep into his mind, Patrick realized it had been a long, long time when he'd been this truly happy.

"I feel the same about you," he murmured, their faces now only inches apart. "I..I haven't felt like this before. It's like I…" but his voice trailed off, as if he'd forgotten what he'd been going to say.

"What?" she asked, her voice almost inaudible.

Patrick locked eyes with her once more and uttered softly and somewhat timidly, "I'd like to, uh…I don't know." His cheeks were flushed with a slight hue of red, and without needing to see, he knew already his cheeks were burning with red.

"You're so cute when you're nervous," she said quietly, wrapping her arm further around his shoulder, breathing in his scent, not wanting to pull away from him.

Patrick chuckled lightly, pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, "I'm very nervous right now, but now more than ever I simply have to say…I would _love_ to kiss you, Amber."

She stared deeper into his eyes, reading so many different emotions that it was almost overwhelming, but in a good way. Really, it was like her own emotions were being reflected right back at her – excitement, growing curiosity, adoration and a spark of energy neither had felt in their life in the longest time.

Staring into his eyes, she knew _exactly_ how she felt. Though all the emotions fought for space in her head, there was one that stood out amongst all the rest, one that sat heavy in her heart. It was that four letter word she'd heard too often before.

It wasn't till then that she was starting to understand more of what that word meant.

"You and I must think alike," she commented, wanting so badly to close that gap between them. Just a few inches was now all that kept their lips from touching. "Because I'd love nothing more than to kiss you."

No further words needed to be spoken; the evident longing in their eyes was enough to reveal what now filled their minds. The beautiful-sounding tune and dancing lights that cast the room in a dreamlike setting only helped push them further into acknowledging their own bundle of feelings.

For Amber, dropping her eyes and allowing them to fall ever so slightly, she couldn't escape from what she knew she wanted. She could have tried telling herself it wasn't the case but it would have been futile. There wasn't anything else in the world she wanted right then. The same thought had occurred to her when she'd been sitting next to him under the apple tree at Grand Blossom Park on that sunny afternoon that now felt like years ago.

With their faces now so close and Patrick's eyes fixed on her own, she knew for certain that nothing else could erase what she knew she wanted.

She wanted to feel Patrick Mac's lips pressed against her own.

"Oh, I'd _love_ to kiss you, Pat," she whispered, her lips hovering so close to his own that she could feel his breath. It was like her whole body was shivering in delightful anticipation while silently encouraging that she move in closer. "But I wonder if we should maybe wait till we're…"

"Alone?" he whispered back.

She blinked and nodded in silence. "You've no idea how much I'd love to kiss you right now. It's like my heart wants to leap out of my chest or something. But I…I wonder if we could wait till we _are_ more, well…alone?"

"Believe me," said Patrick gently, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I would love nothing more than to kiss you right now. But perhaps we should wait till it's just you and I…and not the rest of Chelsea High." He added this last part with a small chuckle.

"True," she agreed, also chuckling. "Lot of people here right now."

"Lots indeed," said Patrick, nodding, now realizing just how many people were gathered in this one room. "Not much privacy, is there?"

She shook her head, stating, "Not a problem if you're eating or dancing, but I, uh…"

"You want it more just you and I?"

She nodded and shifted her gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, sounding somewhat embarrassed. "That probably sounds silly and—"

"That's not silly at all," he said reassuringly. "I can see what you mean, us being in a public space and all, in a room with hundreds of people. Not a lot of privacy, and while I'm no expert on kissing…I can understand why you'd prefer waiting."

He then broke out in a bigger smile and announced, "And besides…you and I haven't finished dancing yet!"

For the rest of the night, the two were at each other's side constantly. Once the slow song had reached its end, the two teachers found they weren't quite ready to leave the dance floor, not just yet. The fun they felt making their way throughout the room as the lively music re-energized them was enough for them to want to carry on dancing. For Patrick, he reflected back on earlier when he'd worried how good a dancer he'd turn out to be but already that felt like hours ago. He'd now discovered a newfound confidence he hadn't known existed, and in no time at all, he was twirling Amber around like he'd been doing it for years. The two found themselves enjoying it so much that after a couple of songs, their self-confidence had reached a new level.

When she felt Patrick's arm now sliding up her back, she followed his lead by slowly and gently falling backward, always feeling his arm wrapped securely around her. All the while, Patrick's eyes remained locked on hers as he lowered her carefully to the ground, and before they knew it, once again the two were on their feet again.

"I thought for sure they were going to kiss!" said Shana, sounding disappointed. She and the other girls had had their fill for dancing and had resumed their preferred position of standing at the chocolate fountain.

"Agreed," said Casey, helping herself to one of the sandwiches. "The way they looked at each other, and how they were leaning in…it was like they were teasing us or something!"

"Oh, it's coming," said Em.

"How do you know?" asked Shana, throwing her a puzzled look.

"I've seen this sort of thing," Em explained. "And I know if it's meant to be and the time is right…then it will happen. That's the funny thing about love. If it's truly love and it's nurtured and given the chance to blossom…it'll grow."

"You're quite philosophical, aren't you?" Nicole chuckled, popping a chocolate into her mouth.

"I suppose," said Em, smiling. "I just know that when I watch those two interacting with each other, what they share can't be mistaken for anything but love."

"Too bad though," said Shana, shrugging her shoulders. "It would have been so romantic seeing them kiss."

"Oh I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of them around school," said Em, glancing over at Mr. Mac and Ms. Norm. "Wouldn't surprise me at all if you catch them sneaking in a few kisses here and there. Patience though…patience."

When the evening had reached its end, Amber and Patrick made their way to the entrance doors, hand in hand. It was hard to believe the night had come and gone so quickly, but replaying it all in their minds, both agreed they couldn't have had a better time.

"Well, that was fun," said Patrick.

"Very fun," said Amber. She gave him a light nudge in the shoulder and added, "And you turned out to be a pretty spectacular dancer, after all!"

"Who would've thought, eh?" Patrick joked with a chuckle. "A dancing teacher?"

"Two dancing teachers, to be precise."

"Of course," he smiled, his hand still enveloped in hers. "Two dancing teachers that danced the dancing night away."

"And then danced their way home," said Amber.

The two burst out laughing, already forgetting how many laughs they'd shared that night.

"I'll have to make a note to attend the Christmas dance," Amber told him.

"Maybe you and I can practice our dancing again?" said Patrick.

"Sounds like a plan," she said.

After a brief pause, Amber pulled Patrick into a warm hug and told him, "A+ on the dancing tonight, Mr. Mac."

"Why thank you," he answered. "But if I was an A+, then you were an A++."

The teachers then pulled apart, but not without sharing one last look into the other's eyes, both wishing they could go on dancing all through the night.

"See you Monday," said Amber.

"Bright and early!" she heard Patrick say.

* * *

Back home in his apartment, Patrick felt sure he'd sleep soundly tonight. What with all the dancing he'd done earlier, he was all ready for a good night's sleep and the thought of that nice, warm bed was now sounding perfect just about now.

What he couldn't have expected was to be woken up out of a dead sleep. As with any other disturbance, he'd simply dismiss it as being nothing more than a nightmare. But strangely enough, it seemed to be the same, identical dream he'd encountered a few weeks ago. He couldn't mistake it as anything but that same, unsettling dream.

Just like before was that sharp noise that sounded like crashing thunder.

And the weight of crushing pain that felt like a thousand bricks piling on top of him.

But most of all, who was that unnerving, unidentified stranger that seemed to be orchestrating the whole frightening dream?

He didn't know, but having been trapped in that same dream for a second time, it was starting to make him uneasy. Thinking it over, it just seemed too coincidental to be sucked into that same dream but whatever the case, it left him more puzzled and tense then ever.

What did it mean? Did it mean anything at all? Or was it purely just a nightmare and nothing to spend time dwelling on?

Patrick decided to try and push it completely out of his mind. He concluded it wouldn't do him any good to worry about what was very likely to be only a very frustrating occurrence.

So with Earnest curled up comfortably beside him, he laid back down, closed his eyes and thought only that night of dancing with Amber till he'd finally dozed off.


	8. Babysitting

By the second week of October, the outside world appeared just as beautiful as ever, with the various trees displaying their characteristic shades of orange, red and yellow leaves. The usual breeze that lingered in the warm, refreshing air reminded many of why autumn was such a favourite season. What with the ideal weather, colourful scenery and valleys ready for apple picking, there were so many reasons why it was such a beloved time of year.

It was why Patrick always took the time to venture aboveground, as many of the autumn joys could only be fully appreciated above the surface. Only up here could he see the vibrant colors, feel the breeze against his face, breathe in the delicious smells of apples, pumpkins and hear the sounds of laughter, twittering birds, rustling trees and crackling campfires.

While he loved the underground complexes, there was a special sense of awe and appreciation that could only be felt when up on the surface. To be able to gaze up into the vast, cloud-filled sky and gleaming sun and step right into the heart of nature was something that never failed to put a smile on Patrick's face.

Earth had come a long way from a time when things were very different. So long ago, problem after problem seemed to threaten the world at large – overpopulation, wars, global warming, pollution, crime and countless diseases of which no cure had yet been discovered.

How different the world had become in a few thousand years. Gone were the global threats – the world now functioned as one, joined planet where people and nature co-existed in consistent harmony.

Simply put, Earth had not only survived, it had been given the chance to thrive and blossom into a world that was as close to perfect as could be.

"Might have taken a few thousand years," Patrick thought out loud while strolling along the winding, grassy hills one afternoon. "But we finally got it right. Better late then never."

As he made his way along the stone-lined paths, all the sights, smells and sounds appeared livelier then ever before. The sounds seemed louder, the smells stronger and the sights more colourful then when he'd last spent time up here, that day when he and Amber had visited Grand Blossom Park. It was like every sight, smell and sound was amplified, so much, that he felt he could have gone on walking along for hours and still find something new to observe.

At one point, as he was turning to head back down to his underground apartment, he heard the sound of distant laughter. When he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes caught sight of a group of kids running across a large, grassy plain that stretched for miles. There were two boys and two girls and while staring back at them, Patrick's mind flashed back to his childhood years. He remembered so clearly all the times he'd spent outside and watching those four kids now, he was struck with so many realizations, that it was hard to keep them all from blending together.

Once again he was amazed by the fact that his childhood had passed by so quickly. One moment he was a young five-year-old boy, fascinated by the world and all its wonders and secrets, and the next, he was a twenty-six year old teacher and librarian.

Where had that time gone, he often wondered.

He also recalled the simple joys that childhood brought. Growing up, there was always something to explore and no matter the day, time or place, one could always find a bundle of fun so long as their mind and heart was open. His own childhood years had been filled with days of fun and even years later, still he could picture so vividly all those precious times he held so dearly.

But most of all, he was once again struck by those sudden, unexplainable feelings he'd encountered not long ago. There was no denying they were there, and just as strongly as they'd previously been, but the biggest, most frustrating question of all still remained.

What did it all mean?

Why did these emotions keep popping up and why was it that when they did, it felt like some heavy weight pressing down on him? Stranger still, it was a weight that couldn't so much be described as painful. It was more like it was working hard to tell him something but time and again, he just couldn't unravel what all of it meant. Whatever words it was trying to speak to him, whatever message it was attempting to deliver, he wasn't able to put all those pieces together in a way that made absolute sense.

After watching the kids for a few minutes longer, he then headed in the opposite direction for home, more puzzled and curious then ever before.

* * *

The following day, Patrick had resumed his regular teaching position at Chelsea High, the lingering questions from yesterday already pushed out of his mind. He was looking forward to the next couple of weeks, as they would be advancing to the next concept in Computer Technology. As the year progressed, the hands-on activities became more involved and detailed, and it was the more complex searching he thoroughly enjoyed.

Sitting there at his wooden desk, he shook his head in amazement at how computers and history could make so much sense, but trying to sort out his own emotions continued to be the greatest challenge of all. Luckily for him, he could always return to his classroom, the one place that reminded him every day of why he'd become a teacher.

He was now spending some time browsing the web of his computer, the three-dimensional holographic screen hovering in front of him. His class had ended ten minutes ago and since then, the room had become empty and perfectly quiet. With some spare time to himself, his plan was to relax for the next twenty minutes or so and then head on downstairs for lunch.

That was the plan.

What he hadn't expected was for that plan to be...interrupted.

"Hi!"

Patrick was so focused on the screen in front of him that the voice actually gave him a start. He glanced up in surprise and noticed a little girl standing in the doorway entrance, holding a booklet in one hand and a bucket of crayons and markers in the other. She had long blond hair that was tied into a braided ponytail and wore a pretty, red headband with tiny ladybugs.

He blinked in confusion; he wasn't used to seeing children in the school. Since the school was a high school, it just wasn't the place you'd expect to see children wandering around in.

"Uh…hello," said Patrick, still wearing a confused expression on his face.

"Who are you?" she asked brightly, her blue eyes darting around the room in obvious curiosity.

Patrick scratched his head, wondering who this child belonged to, and why she was at Chelsea High at all.

"My name is Patrick," he answered, getting up from his desk. "I'm a teacher. Where are your parents? Shouldn't you be—"

"What are those?" she asked, pointing to the computers on the desks.

"Computers," said Patrick, but before he could continue, the little girl walked up to one and observed it keenly.

"What's a computer?" she asked, staring up at him wide-eyed.

"Uhh…" Patrick started, but stopped when he realized this young girl might not be able to fully comprehend his description of their advanced computer systems. "Well…it's kind of like a—"

"Want to color with me?" She made her way over to Patrick's desk, dropped one of her books on it and held up her bucket of crayons. "I have crayons and markers and colored pencils and a book with lots of pictures!"

She opened up her hundred-page booklet, placed some of the crayons next to it and looked back to Patrick with bright eyes and an equally bright smile.

"Shouldn't you be with your parents?" he asked. "Aren't they looking for you?"

"It's lots of fun!" she chirped, picking up the green crayon and scribbling it on one of the pages. "I have lots of crayons too. Red, green, purple, blue, yellow…and a bunch more."

Patrick couldn't help but smile. It was obvious she had a love for drawing and before he could even answer, she was settling into his chair and coloring in a picture of a kitten playing with a ball of yarn. All her focus was now on this picture but after a moment of coloring, she did lift up her head to throw him a look that seemed to say, "Don't you want to color?"

The question sprang to mind that perhaps she was related to one of the teachers there at the school.

The answer to that question came instantaneously.

"Lucy, there you are!"

Patrick turned and saw Matt Brenner entering the room. He gave the girl a disapproving look, but then shook his head and chuckled when she called to him, "I'm coloring!"

"I told you not to take off running and what do you do?" said Matt. "Take off running." He threw Patrick a smile and said, "Hey, Mr. Mac. Working hard?"

"Well, I was pretty confused when I saw a little girl suddenly appear in my room, but other than that, I was just taking it easy. She your daughter?"

"Sure is," Matt answered. "Her preschool had the day off today and she kept asking me if she could come to work with me today, so I couldn't say no. Kind of hard to say no to a five-year-old and not have them keep asking and asking…and asking. So she's been with me for the day, but I should have known she'd wander off eventually. Now I've got to go downstairs and meet with Ms. Simmons."

"Not in trouble, are you?" Patrick joked.

"Nah, just one of our monthly meetings," said Matt casually. "You know what Ms. Simmons is like. She just loves meeting with us every month. We must be such fabulous teachers that she simply has to meet with us so much."

Patrick laughed at the comment.

"So," said Matt, heading back toward the door. "You won't mind doing me a small favour then?"

"Favour?" asked Patrick.

"Babysitting, I mean," said Matt, breaking out in a small grin.

"Wait, babysitting?" said Patrick, raising a brow in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, since I have a meeting to get to and all," Matt explained, and pointed to Patrick's desk, where Lucy was busily working on her colouring. "I was hoping you could look after Lucy while I'm gone. I won't be very long. Shouldn't be more then twenty minutes. I'd bring her with me but she seems pretty content sitting at your desk right now."

Patrick thought for a moment, then shrugged and replied with a smile, "Sure, why not?"

"Thanks, man," said Matt. "Don't worry. Her crayons and drawings keep her busy for hours. She won't give you any trouble."

"Define trouble."

"You know, not listening, running around, making a mess of things," said Matt with a chuckle. "Things like that. Comes with the territory, being a parent and all. You'll see what I mean someday."

Patrick took a sip of water, wiped his mouth with his sleeve and shot back, "I don't know…"

"Oh, don't worry," said Matt, sounding sure of himself. "One of these days, you'll have a little one of your own following you around."

"And you know that for certain, do you?" Patrick challenged, crossing his arms and giving him a smile.

"Absolutely," was Matt's quick response. "But for today, I'd much appreciate it if you'd babysit Lucy for me."

"Not a problem," said Patrick. "I wasn't doing much up here anyway. Besides, I could use the company."

"Alrighty, sounds good then," said Matt. As he walked off, he called back to Patrick, "Have fun!"

When Matt had left to head downstairs to the director's office, Patrick walked back over to his desk. Lucy was sitting comfortably in the chair, her eyes locked on the drawing that she had been spending the last few minutes colouring. While he and Matt had been chatting, she'd dug into her bag and pulled out all the other crayons and tools she had stuffed in her bag. They were now spread across the desk and as Patrick's eyes wandered across the now cluttered table, it was all too clear this was now her desk for the next little while.

"Mind if I color with you?" Patrick asked.

"Okay!" Lucy smiled. After he'd pulled up a chair, she ripped out one of the pages, and placed it in front of him along with some crayons and markers. "You can color the lion!"

"Ooh, a lion!" said Patrick, smiling. "King of the Jungle. This should be fun."

"Lions are big!" Lucy exclaimed. "And they go roar!"

Patrick laughed and said, "Yes, they do go roar!"

The girl giggled at his imitation of a lion's roar, and then reached for the purple crayon, and continued colouring her kitten picture.

"Are they your favourite animal?" Patrick asked.

"I like snakes," Lucy told him, while flipping through her book of animals. She found the page she was searching for, pointed to it and said with excitement, "See?"

"Lots of snakes there," Patrick observed. "Know what that one's called?" he asked, pointing to one of the larger ones.

"Cobra!" Lucy declared.

"Yes," said Patrick. He smiled and told her, "You're some smart. I'll bet you could name all the animals out there."

"Do you like snakes?" she asked.

"Sure," said Patrick. "Know which one I like best of all?"

"Cobras?"

"Cobras are pretty cool," said Patrick. While waving his pointer finger, she heard him say, "But the one I like best is the rattlesnake!"

Lucy laughed again, adding, "They rattle, rattle, rattle!"

"And they ssssssss," Patrick said, also laughing.

"That's what snakes do!" said Lucy, joining in. "They go ssss ssssssss."

For the next fifteen minutes, the two spent their time sitting at the desk, colouring away at page after page. Between the two of them, they'd coloured pages of animals including tigers, elephants, lions, zebras, penguins, hummingbirds, foxes and various others. The last time Patrick had done any kind of artwork was when he'd been a child himself and it surprised him how relaxing a thing colouring was. For that short time, he allowed himself to focus solely on color selection and bringing to life the black-and-white animal images into more colourful, vibrant representations. While he might not have had a particular knack for art, that didn't stop him from enjoying the simple pleasure that came from coloring.

As she finished the last portion of her cheetah, Patrick glanced over and remarked, "That looks awesome!"

"Thanks," said Lucy. "I like cheetahs too. They're fast!"

"Fast indeed," said Patrick. "Could outrun me, that's for sure."

That was when a third voice entered the conversation.

"Hey!"

Patrick turned and his eyes fell on the open doorway, where he saw Amber strolling in, her shoulder bag at her side and a smile on her face.

"All finished teaching?" he asked her.

"Done and done," she answered. "I was just gonna head downstairs for lunch but wanted to pop by." She looked over at Lucy and smiled, "Who's this?"

"Lucy, Matt Brenner's daughter," Patrick explained. "He had a meeting with Ms. Simmons and asked if I could watch her while he was gone. Her preschool was closed today and she wanted to come to work with him, so she's spending the day here."

"Oh, that's so cool," said Amber. She peered down at Lucy's latest page and told her, "You're some good at coloring! Think you could show me a thing or two?"

Lucy giggled and held the page up to her, saying, "Look at my picture!" She then asked curiously, "What's your name?"

"Amber," she answered. "I'm a teacher like Patrick. My goodness, I love that picture."

"It's a cheetah," Lucy chirped.

"And a beautiful cheetah at that," said Amber, shaking her head in amazement. "That's great, Lucy. You'll have to show me how to color so well."

"Very funny, Amber," said Patrick with a laugh. "I thought you said you'd been drawing and painting since you were little."

"I have," she told him with a shrug. "But Lucy here is clearly a pro. I could learn some things from her. Kids always have such a way with colors, don't they? They don't overanalyze or second-guess which color to choose. They simply look at the picture, pick a color, and go for it."

Patrick thought about that, and admitted, "Guess that does make sense."

"And how've you been making out?" she asked with a playful wink. "I know you said you weren't much for coloring, but you and Lucy seem to be having fun."

"Well, I'm not great at it," he answered. "I could never be an artist, but surprisingly, it's actually pretty relaxing. And I guess I could say it's actually pretty fun."

"Kids have a way with that too," Amber commented, taking a seat next to them.

"With what?" Patrick asked.

"With everything, really," she said, watching Lucy setting down the red crayon and replacing it with a bright, sunshine yellow. "It's like they know how to make anything fun. Or they can take something you don't necessarily enjoy and suddenly make you enjoy it. Kids are funny like that. How they can make you see things differently."

"She made me enjoy coloring," said Patrick, laughing lightly. "No arguments there. So you're right about that."

"I have more books at home too," Lucy said to both of them. "I even have one with princesses. I got it for my birthday. And I have over a hundred crayons at home and…and glow-in-the-dark markers too. I want to be an artist someday!"

"You can be whatever you want to be," Amber told her sincerely.

As Amber sat there watching Lucy sorting out her crayons in neat, orderly rows, Patrick's eyes were now locked completely on Amber. As he observed her more carefully, he paid closer attention to that little smile spreading on her face. After having seen her break down in tears and appear so lost and alone on that afternoon at Grand Blossom Park, it was such a transformation when her face lit up like it had just then. Gone was that look of distress at remembering her lonesome past; now in its place was an expression of both calmness and contentment.

"Do you like coloring too?" Lucy asked Amber, her eyes still glued to the page.

"I love it," said Amber, picking up one of the markers and joining her. "Ever since I was a kid, I was always coloring."

Five minutes later, Matt had returned from his meeting with Ms. Simmons. When he entered the classroom, he saw the two teachers sitting next to Lucy, the three of them engaged in their coloring. They hadn't even noticed that he was now standing in the doorway, observing the scene.

"You three having fun?" he asked with a smile.

"Lots of fun!" Lucy chimed, holding up one of her pictures.

"That's great, sweetie," Matt said, walking over to them. "And you had two babysitters with you."

"I was just walking around, and saw these two coloring away," Amber answered. "So I figured I'd come in and help out."

"You like art, too?" he asked.

"Love it," said Amber quickly. "When I'm not teaching, I'm sketching or painting or doing something with art."

"Good stuff," said Matt. He turned to Patrick and asked with a chuckle, "So you didn't mind coloring with her, Patrick? I know you aren't much for art and whatnot, but it wasn't too bad?"

"No, it was actually fun," said Patrick, placing the markers back in Lucy's bucket. "Mind you, I'm not as good at coloring as Lucy, but it was fun all the same."

"Glad to hear," said Matt. He then said to Lucy, "Ready to get some lunch, kiddo?"

"Okay," she said, following her dad towards the door. She looked back to Patrick and Amber and called out, "Bye!"

"Bye!" both teachers called back.

When the two were alone, Amber turned to Patrick and said, "She was cute.

"She sure likes coloring," Patrick commented. "She probably could have sat there and colored for hours."

There was a brief pause, and then Amber said thoughtfully, "I always wondered what it would be like."

"What?"

She was silent for a moment, and then answered pensively, "Having kids."

Patrick didn't answer immediately. He was silent for a few moments longer, before asking her curiously, "Have you ever considered having kids?"

"Maybe at some point," she replied, sounding a little unsure. She shrugged and said quietly, "I don't know…I guess I've just been so busy with establishing a teaching job that I haven't spent too much time really thinking it over. Who knows? Maybe someday."

Patrick nodded, shifting his gaze to the glass-paned window.

"How about you?" she asked, rising from her chair.

"Same with me," he said. With a small smile, he added, "Besides, I don't really know how great I'd do with kids and all. I love teaching and love what I do here at the school but I can't say for sure that I'd do well with kids."

"I wouldn't say that," Amber shot back, reflecting back on what she'd seen with Patrick and Lucy. "Lucy seemed to like coloring with you."

Patrick shrugged in response and said, "I don't know…"

"Well, if you want my opinion," she told him, sounding confident. "You seem like a pretty awesome babysitter to me. Just my two cents."

"Thanks for the compliment," said Patrick.

"Just saying what I see."

As Patrick was closing down the holographic program of his computer, Amber was heading towards the door, when she suddenly stopped. She glanced back at Patrick and at that moment, found herself reflecting back to a few weeks ago when she and him had shared that night of dancing at the school's first dance. Still so vivid and clear in her mind, it was like that had all happened yesterday.

"Remember that night?" she asked, replaying it in her mind. "When you and I danced?"

Patrick got up out his chair and walked over to her, a smile growing on his face.

"How could I forget?" he said, also reflecting back on that wonderful night. "Dancing…not to mention that chocolate fountain we couldn't get enough of."

"I still want to buy one of those," she said, once again craving the delectable chocolate-coated fruits. "Have one for myself."

"I ought to do that myself," Patrick agreed.

The share shared a laugh, and then Amber started for the door while saying, "Guess I'll head down for lunch then. You coming?"

"Yeah," said Patrick, his voice growing quiet. He stopped talking momentarily, and then said to her, "You know, Amber, I've…I've been thinking."

"You sound like you're getting into a speech," she said jokingly.

Patrick chuckled lightly. "I guess I am, in a way. I've been wanting to ask you since that night, but then we got so busy again with teaching, but it's been on my mind and I suppose now's as good a time as any to ask."

He walked up to her, stared at her with a small, genuine smile that revealed a hint of shyness, and said, "I never officially asked you if you'd…like to go out with me?"

"You mean…like a date?" she asked, holding his gaze.

Patrick's smile widened, though he felt like his heart might leap out of his chest. At the very least, it was certainly pounding in anticipation of what she would say. He knew the two had spent much time together since she'd first joined Chelsea High as its newest teacher, though was there still a chance she might not wish to take their relationship to the next step? Sure, they'd become friends and there was no arguing that a certain spark had ignited between them, but a very big question still lingered in the air. It was one Patrick often found himself dwelling on when he was alone in his apartment, leaving work for the day or sitting with Amber in the teacher's lounge during lunch.

Did she feel as strongly about him as he felt about her?

"Yeah, uh…a date," Patrick answered, dropping her gaze temporarily. "I suppose that would be the proper term for two people who are together and alone and on a…" but he stopped, ran his fingers through his long, brown hair and declared quietly, "This is coming out all wrong, isn't it?"

Despite the fact that Patrick himself felt his words turned into a jumbled mess, it seemed that Amber didn't notice at all. Either that, or it just didn't matter to her.

He felt his heart burst with excitement when she told him, "I'd love to go on a date with you, Pat. I've actually wanted to go out with you ever since that night we danced. Before that night, really."

"So, you're saying yes?" he asked, a sparkle now showing in his eyes.

"Hundred and ten percent yes," she assured him. "What did you have in mind?"

"I was hoping to surprise you," he explained, the two leaving the classroom and slowly making their way down the long, empty hallway. "As long as you're okay with surprises."

"I'm more then okay with surprises!" she eagerly replied. "Keeps things interesting."

"That it does," he agreed. "Does this Saturday work for you?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Saturday it is then."

"Have any place in mind?" she asked.

"Well," said Patrick. "I was wondering if you'd actually like to come to my place? If you'd like to go somewhere else, I'm okay either way, whatever you'd like."

"That'd be perfect," she told him, smiling shyly.

Patrick smiled in return, and added, "You're not allergic to cats, are you?"

"No, why?"

"Just wanted to make sure my cat wouldn't bother you," he explained. "That wouldn't be a very nice thing to have happen on a first date."

"You have a cat?" she asked excitedly.

"Yup, orange tabby named Earnest. I swear, she has total power over me. With food, the litter box, toys, sleeping…you name it."

"I can't wait to see her," said Amber, sounding genuinely excited. "I never had pets growing up. I was thinking about adopting my own cat but haven't gotten around to it yet. Been too busy with teaching, I guess."

"Glad to hear," said Patrick. With a playful wink, he assured her, "I'll make sure she's on her best behaviour."

"I'll do the same," she said jokingly. "I'll have nothing but the best of manners."

"Then that makes three of us," Patrick joked, the two chuckling at the exchange. "We'll all be on our best behaviour."

Before the two started down the stairs, he asked her, "You don't have any food allergies, by any chance, do you?"

"Just fish," was her answer. She made a disgusted face and remarked, "But that's fine by me. I don't like the stuff anyway. Other then that, I'll eat pretty much anything."

Patrick nodded, and said half to himself, "I've got to get planning then."

As Amber walked beside him, she asked him inquisitively, "Mind sharing what you mean by planning?"

"I thought you said you liked surprises," Patrick shot back, throwing her a little grin.

"I do," she said, sounding undoubtedly curious. "I just want to know."

Patrick stopped, broke out in a big smile that was all but contagious, and said with an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes, "You'll know come Saturday."

He then opened the door to the teacher's lounge, holding it open for her.

"In the meantime," he went on, his face still wearing that infectious smile. "Let's have some lunch!"


	9. Love Has Spoken

When Saturday morning rolled around, Patrick was up and busily beginning preparations for later that afternoon. Being an early riser, he was used to starting his day early, especially considering classes at Chelsea High started at 8am. Today, however, he was up for a very different reason.

"Big day today, Earnest," he announced. He was sitting at the kitchen table, with Earnest resting comfortably in her usual spot – on her owner's lap. "Amber and I are having our first, official date today. Any last minute suggestions?" He asked this last part while staring at her expectantly.

Earnest gazed up at him with unblinking eyes, her tail flickering back and forth slowly and lazily.

"I know," said Patrick in surrender, rubbing her behind the ears. "Just make sure you get fed. Wouldn't forget that." The cat nuzzled her head against his hand in contentment, purring loudly.

He then shifted his gaze to the kitchen, his mind already fast forwarding ahead to later that day, and what the evening might hold in store for them.

 _I'm no expert with dating_ , he thought, suddenly feeling somewhat lost. _And I'm certainly not an expert on anything to do with women! I've just heard bits and pieces from other people._

As he pondered about where to begin, he looked to Earnest to see the cat still watching him with her typical content and relaxed expression.

"What do you think?" he asked. "Women like romance, right?"

The cat's answer was to chirp and stretch slightly before resettling on his lap.

"Am I right in thinking that's a… _yes_?" he asked, raising a brow.

Earnest's response was to begin licking her paws.

"This is serious, Earnest," said Patrick, drumming his fingers on the wooden table. "I want to make sure everything's just right." He paused and allowed himself a moment to recall what he'd heard from others. What was it that women liked? Was there some secret ingredient that made for the perfect date? If there was, Patrick knew he hadn't the slightest clue what that might be but nevertheless, that didn't mean he wasn't going to do all he could to help make this night one that Amber would enjoy.

"Alright!" he said, now speaking with a newfound confidence, sounding more like his usual confident self while teaching. "First things first, I have to get the apartment spick-and-spam."

For the next hour, he was busy at work tidying up the apartment to have it looking spotless for later that afternoon. Whether it was vacuuming the floors, dusting the furniture or ensuring that nothing was out of place, he was on his feet for the next sixty minutes. Being a naturally tidy person himself, it wasn't often that Patrick's apartment was left in a cluttered state. He preferred keeping his home as orderly as possible but when he was about to embark on the first real date of his life, well...he wanted the house cleaner and more spotless then ever.

As he spent the next few hours working away at his preparations, Earnest contented herself to playing with her favourite ball of yarn. She'd push it repeatedly across the floor, flick her tail in anticipation and then dart forward eagerly, pouncing on it as if it were a mouse. When she'd get bored of this, she'd follow Patrick around, circling around his feet and meowing as if this were a game in itself.

Eventually, she returned to her bed for a much-needed nap while Patrick made his way to the kitchen. While she slept, her owner was hard at work in preparing what he hoped was going to be a dinner his date would enjoy. Luckily for him, cooking was something he'd always enjoyed, and he was always on the look out for new and fresh new recipes. All too quickly, the kitchen was soon alive with various pots that sizzled and filled the air with delicious smells.

When at last the clock read five o'clock, Patrick placed his hands on his hips, exhaled and said to Earnest, "So what do you think? You think it looks okay?"

Instead of answering, the cat scampered over to the door.

Patrick watched her in confusion, and then followed behind. It was when he'd reached the door that he heard the sound of knocking. At his feet, Earnest was pawing at the door as if trying to let whoever was knocking inside.

When he opened the door, standing there was the one person who had been on his mind since he'd gotten out of bed that morning. She wore a long-sleeved white shirt, flowered leggings, flats, a pearl necklace and like that night at the school dance, her brown hair was once more flowing freely down her back.

"Hey, Pat."

For a moment, Patrick was filled with such simple joy at seeing her again that he couldn't speak.

"Hey, Amber."

Before either could say anything further, Amber felt an unexpected something pressing against her leg. Peering down, her eyes fell on a small orange kitten nuzzling its head into her leg while gazing up at her with its bright, emerald-green eyes.

"Is this your cat?" she smiled excitedly, immediately kneeling down to greet the friendly cat. She reached out to rub the kitten's back and remarked, "She's so cute!"

"She is indeed," Patrick answered. "Amber, meet Earnest. Earnest, this is Amber."

"She is just too sweet," Amber exclaimed, the kitten continuing to nuzzle its head into her hand. "So she doesn't mind strangers then?"

"Not at all," said Patrick. He chuckled and told her, "She'd probably roam around the halls and go visit all the other residents if I let her. She likes people, that's for sure."

"Well, she is without a doubt the cutest cat I've ever seen," Amber concluded, rubbing the cat under its chin. She looked up to Patrick and asked eagerly, "Can I hold her?"

"Absolutely," said Patrick.

While Amber picked up the small kitten in her arms, Patrick opened the door further and told her, "Just give me one second. I'll turn the lights on…"

As soon as Patrick flicked the main switch, it was like the night had turned to day. Just moments ago the apartment had been filled with natural darkness, but with that one single flick of the switch, it was like Amber was staring in at something she hadn't expected, not even the slightest. Having never been on a real date or having not had much luck with boys growing up, she hadn't had much of an idea of what to expect. When Patrick had mentioned wanting to surprise her, she hadn't anticipated his idea of a surprise involved the spectacular and breathtaking display she now saw.

Gone were the normally iridescent patterns on the walls. Now in their place was an endless number of slowly moving shimmering golden circles, all against an evening background. The closer she looked, the more gorgeous it all seemed, like a three-dimensional display of a thousand fireflies, all sparkling and gleaming like diamonds in the night.

Situated throughout the apartment were various candles, each of a different, soft colourful shade. No matter the color – whether it was blue, green, red or orange – each of the separate colors seem to bring the whole area to life in such a way, she'd swear she was looking at a living, breathing painting.

What took her breath away though wasn't the array of colors or elegant lighting. When her eyes fell on the center of the apartment, she saw a sight that could only be described as a delicious, perfectly put together banquet. It was a long, polished wooden table covered with a snow-white tablecloth and scattered overtop of this were multiple rose petals, adding a rich, colourful tone to the display. As for the food, such an irresistible smell came from the table that it was enough to make her mouth start watering at once. Each plate looked so delicately crafted and no doubt all of the food would leave her craving seconds and thirds.

What she saw was a gorgeous platter of fruits – strawberries, grapes, sliced apples, pineapple, raspberries and fresh watermelon. Alongside the various fruits was a selection of sweet additions like chocolate, honey, whip cream and caramel. There were bacon-wrapped filet mignons, barbequed chicken breasts, baked potatoes, roasted vegetables and one plate holding a chocolate lava cake topped off with raspberries. Finally, a ruby red liquid was seen in the glass goblets, along with ice and a cherry – strawberry flavoured Shirley Temples.

While it was a word that was typically overused, it was the one word that came to Amber's mind as to how she'd describe this entire arrangement – perfect. Every detail from the softly lit lighting to the multi-colored candles and the fantastic dinner table adorned with rose petals blended together so wonderfully…so seamlessly.

"Did…did you do _all_ this?" she asked, her voice trailing off. She'd almost forgotten that Earnest was still curled up in the crook of her arm, though the cat didn't seem to mind.

Patrick walked up beside her and nodded. "I-I know I'm not an expert on romance," he admitted. "But I, uh…I hope this is alright."

"It's better then alright," she told him quickly, her eyes still glued on the remarkable table. "It's like from a dream." She chuckled and added, "I know that sounds cheesy and all, but it's just so amazing. And you did all of this yourself? The cooking, the decorating…even the rose petals? Everything?"

"I did," said Patrick, shrugging modestly. "Can't say the cat helped much though."

"No?" she smiled, rubbing Earnest's belly.

"Nope," said Patrick, shaking his head at the cat. "I'm disappointed too. With how well I treat her, you think she'd have more advice but no, she leaves me in the dust." He thought for a moment and offered, "Who knows? Maybe she's not much of an expert on romance herself."

"Well if you ask me," Amber began. She set the cat down and looked up at him with a sincere expression and continued, "It's the best surprise I've had in a long time."

"Glad you like it," said Patrick, relieved. He led her over to the table, pulled out one of the chairs and announced, "I hope you're hungry."

"I'm starving," she smiled, taking a seat.

Patrick took a seat next to her and just as he expected, Earnest had already followed and leaped up onto his lap. Unable to resist the smells of the delicious feast, she peered up from the edge of the table, her eyes darting from plate to plate in equal excitement.

"Sorry, Earnest," said Patrick, setting her back down on the floor. "This is a date for two, not three."

"She's so cute," Amber remarked, watching the cat in amusement as it made its way over to its bed without a word.

"She's a handful all right," Patrick joked. He was also watching the orange bundle of fur resettling into her bed. "But she's a character."

"Does she follow you around a lot?" she asked.

"Ninety-nine percent of the time…yes," said Patrick, his face breaking out in a smile. "I'd almost think she were my shadow."

"How old is she?"

"About four months. I got her before the school year started, so a few months from now, she should be fully grown."

As her eyes wandered again on the delicious-smelling foods, Patrick spoke up, telling her, "Help yourself to whatever you like. And don't be shy. There's plenty of food, so there's more then enough for seconds."

"And dessert," she added, a gleam in her eyes.

"Yes," said Patrick. "The most anticipated part." His face then broke out in a smile as he asked her, "I hope you're craving chocolate tonight."

"Oh, I crave that twenty-four seven. No worries there."

"Well that's good," said Patrick. "Because I'll need some help with that chocolate cake.

"That cake looks pretty tough," she said. "But it won't stand a chance against you and I."

"Couldn't agree more," said Patrick. He held up his glass and said while meeting her gaze, "To us?"

She held his gaze, raised her glass and responded, "To us."

For the next hour, both enjoyed themselves to a quiet dinner for two, the soft glowing of the candles offering the perfect touch. As Amber expected, the food tasted even better then it looked. From the sweet, juicy helpings of fruit to the flavourful chicken and roasted vegetables, there wasn't a single part of the dinner she didn't thoroughly enjoy. As they ate, the two went on talking and sharing stories of their lives and the whole while, they weren't even aware of the time passing by. For Patrick, he felt he could have sat there and talked with her for hours and still he'd be all the more curious about her. For what felt like the longest time, the two shared laughs and talked as if they'd known each other all their lives.

When they'd gotten halfway through the chocolate cake, Amber said to him, "I know I already said this but…I can't get over how good this all is. You sure you're not a chef or something?"

Patrick chuckled warmly, and answered, "Thank you. No, I'm not a chef, though I do enjoy cooking. I find it relaxing, and it's always fun learning new recipes. But it's always most rewarding when someone else enjoys what you've made."

"True. Can't say I'm as skilled with cooking though. I tried baking cookies once but must have mixed up one of the ingredients or left one out or something, because they tasted like cardboard."

"They're hard to master," said Patrick, shrugging. "Took me so many tries to finally make a batch that tasted edible. Then once I got the hang of it, I knew what temperature to bake them at, how much flour to add, how much sugar and from then on, it was like a routine."

"Practice makes perfect, I guess."

"So I've heard," said Patrick, smiling at her. He slid the plate closer towards her and asked, "You want to finish it? I'm stuffed."

"Sure you don't to finish?"

"Positive," said Patrick, setting his fork down. He leaned back in the chair, exhaled and declared, "Can't eat another bite."

"If you're absolutely, positively sure," said Amber, her fork hovering over the last portion of lava cake.

"It's all yours," said Patrick with a chuckle. "Well…I suppose I could squeeze in some more." He paused briefly, and added with a little wink, "Just kidding. No more for me."

When the two had finished eating, they spent some time relaxing on the leather couch, the glowing lights on the walls still casting the room in soft, dreamlike colors. What grabbed her attention was that every so often, the moving images would shift and melt into something different. One time, she glanced to her right to see the thousands of glowing fireflies give way to glistening raindrops. Even more amazing was how lifelike it all felt, for she not only saw the endless shower of raindrops, she heard the steady dripping as drop after drop fell in succession. Another time she'd glance over her shoulder to see the wall behind her revealing the image of a large tree, dozens of autumn leaves falling only to then be swept up in a gentle, afternoon breeze.

It was when her eyes fell on the table, that an idea struck her.

"You play chess?" she asked, turning to Patrick.

"Sure do," he replied. "You?"

"Yup," she answered. "Checkers was my game as a kid but after a while, I discovered that chess was a much more…interesting game."

"No arguments there," said Patrick, their eyes locked on the other's. "It's a game of great strategy."

"You up for a game?" she challenged, still staring him square in the eye.

"Always," said Patrick with a grin.

"Alright then," she said taking a seat opposite him. "Let's see what you've got then."

"I'll forewarn you," said Patrick, his eyes scanning the board intensely. "I've been known to be quite the player."

"Is that so? Well, you have yet to face me in this particular game."

When Patrick glanced over at her, he saw she wore an unmistakable grin on her face.

"Why do I have the feeling you're going to be tough to beat?" said Patrick, his eyes quickly darting back to the board.

She shrugged innocently, still wearing that eager smile.

"Should make for an interesting game," she commented.

And the game certainly proved interesting. Back and forth, the two made their moves after carefully analyzing the board, neither one quite sure of who would walk out victorious. At some points, Patrick was sure Amber would make her way to checkmate, but then other times, she felt he was all but a few moves away from winning yet another round of chess. Because the two both played so intensely, it was tricky to pinpoint who might sweep the board clean but in the end…it was Amber who left Patrick cornered and unable to escape defeat.

"Checkmate!" she declared victoriously.

Patrick blinked in confusion, scratched his head and uttered a simple, stunned, "Indeed. I'm completely and absolutely defeated."

"For a second, I thought you had me," she told him, reflecting back to a few moves ago.

"Till I lost you," said Patrick, with a little shrug. He smiled and told her, "You outsmarted me."

She sat back down beside him, telling him in a humble tone, "I wouldn't say that."

"But you did," said Patrick. "You beat me fair and square. I knew you'd be a great player, and you just proved you're not only great…you're incredibly clever."

"No more then you," she replied, noticing Earnest making her way out of her bed and toward the living room rug.

Patrick noticed the cat settle onto the rug to then begin cleansing her paws.

"Ah, looks like the queen's awoken from her slumber," he announced. To Earnest, he called out, "Bored of sleeping, huh?"

The cat glanced over to him fleetingly, then continued on with her wash.

"Guess so," said Amber, chuckling.

There was a pause, and then Amber asked, "Isn't it funny?"

"What?" asked Patrick curiously.

"How you keep coming back to things," she answered, her mind now traveling back in time. "I know it happened a few weeks ago, but I keep thinking back on that night. Of the dance."

"How could I forget _that_ night?" he said, his face breaking out in a smile at the memory. He let out a small chuckle, telling her, "It was the night you pulled me onto that dance floor."

"And showed what a great dancer you were," she reminded him, taking a sip from her own glass.

"You were great," Patrick corrected. "I was more or less just following along."

"I don't know," she shot back, her eyes watching the constantly moving display of images on the walls. "You seemed pretty competent. The way you twirled me around felt pretty graceful to me."

"I was just happy I didn't step on your feet," he said, remembering how nervous he'd been. "That probably wouldn't have been the best way to start things off."

Amber shrugged and said, "I still would have danced with you."

"Why?" he asked, incredulous. "It can't be much fun dancing with someone who's stepping on your feet!"

"It is if you're dancing with someone you want to be dancing with," she told him straightforwardly. "I wouldn't have cared if you stepped on my foot or got nervous dancing or didn't know what to do…I just wanted to dance with you."

"Really?" he asked, surprised.

She nodded, and went on thoughtfully, "It's funny actually, how much you remember. It was weeks ago and I still remember it like it was yesterday. I always thought when people told you it's crazy how time flies that it was just an expression but it's not. It _is_ crazy. That was already so long ago."

Patrick rolled those words around in his head, and nodded in agreement.

"I remember how much you loved that chocolate fountain," he said, smiling to himself. "And how you said you could have stood there all night by it."

"I know," she said, also smiling. "If memory serves me right, you were pretty fond of that fountain yourself."

"Guilty," said Patrick, putting his hands up. "Might just have to go buy my own chocolate fountain. That should help crush that sweet tooth."

There was a short pause, and then Amber asked him quietly, "Pat?"

"Yeah?"

She paused again and then in a slightly tentative tone, asked, "When we were dancing…do you remember what you also said to me?"

Without having to say anything further, Patrick already knew exactly what she was referring to. No words were needed; he could read the words by the look alone in her eyes, that stared into his own with unmistakable…desire.

"I do," he stated simply. "And I remember you also said something to me."

"I did," said Amber, her eyes shifting to the wall next to them. The drops of rain continued to fall, the sound of it all sounding more soothing and relaxing then it had just a few minutes ago. She redirected her focus to Patrick and confessed, "I…I still do."

Patrick studied her expression carefully while trying to unravel the mysterious gleam in her eyes, wondering if she too was feeling what he currently felt. Whatever the case, he knew there was no fighting back that warm, tingling burst of energy creeping up through his body. It was unstoppable but more than that…it was wonderfully exciting.

"I do too," he uttered, his voice also growing quiet.

Amber shifted slightly and in a voice that mimicked a whisper, told him, "I-It's just that I've never actually, um..." she held back momentarily before saying nervously, "Kissed anyone before."

Almost immediately, she noticed a smile crossing Patrick's face.

"What?" she asked, growing fearful of what he was thinking.

The words that next came out of his mouth, however, washed all those fears away instantaneously.

"Neither have I," said Patrick, a hint of shyness showing in his face.

Just then, Earnest jumped up onto the kitchen table and though Patrick and Amber didn't catch sight of this, they soon _heard_ something else. The cat was sniffing the table in the hopes of leftover crumbs still lying around but instead, her paw fell on the button controlling the holographic computer. All at once, the sound of music filled the small apartment and right away Amber knew what song had popped up and was now playing – A Thousand Years by Christina Perri.

"Earnest!" Patrick called. "You know not to go jumping up on the table."

The cat watched him curiously, then chirped and settled onto one of the chairs, as if in the mood for another nap.

Patrick sighed, shook his head in amusement and said, "Leave it to Earnest to not listen to a word I say about table manners. No, she'd just rather act as a DJ."

Amber smiled in response, a feeling of sudden, undeniable coyness taking over her. She wasn't entirely sure of what had brought it on – the song, sitting so close to Patrick, the steady fall of raindrops on the walls or all three combined. Whatever it was, it was growing stronger every second, refusing to be ignored.

"Well," she said, fidgeting with her hands. Her eyes were now dropping to the floor. "Music, candles, a softly lit room, the sound of raindrops…don't quite know what to make of it all. Lot to take in."

Patrick laughed warmly. "Kind of is, isn't it?"

"So you've…you've never kissed anyone either?"

"Correct," he said, meeting her gaze. He shrugged and when he next spoke, Amber heard a touch of sadness that while slight, was definitely evident. "I don't know, I always assumed women didn't care much for a guy who spent so much of his time reading or studying or in a library. That, and the fact that I was too nervous to try to ask anyone out didn't help much. I always feared I'd be…rejected. Or told I wasn't good enough."

Amber stared at him for the longest time and told him softly, "But you are. No…you're better then good enough. You're amazing."

"Funny," said Patrick, staring at her with a love-struck expression. "That's _exactly_ how I feel about you."

After that point, it was like the two couldn't find any words or if they could, it was like their mouths were unable to speak. All they felt was the beating of their own hearts increasing and that warm, surge of energy shooting through their bodies like fireworks. And while the song played on and the never-ending raindrops fell, these were trivial, for all they could focus on was each other. How long they sat there trying to sort out their dancing emotions, neither was sure. It could have been ten minutes or one minute. Time now was irrelevant; the connection blossoming between them was too strong to worry about anything else.

It was when Amber sensed Patrick moving in ever so slightly that she was struck with a new feeling. Seeing the gap closing between them, it dawned on her what was about to happen and while she knew she longed for it, it was hard to fight back that increasing feeling of…hesitancy.

"I…I don't know what I'm doing," she said, her eyes dropping from Patrick's.

"We don't have to do this if you'd rather not," he assured her, placing a hand over hers. "We can—"

"No, it's not that," she said. After taking a breath, she told him tentatively, "It's just…I don't want to do it wrong."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," said Patrick, his warm voice seeming to be the only thing she could hear clearly. "You could never do it wrong."

"I just don't want you to think I'm a bad kisser," she said, her cheeks instantly flushing with embarrassment.

He smiled kindly and with total sincerity, told her, "You don't have to worry, Amber. There's no way I could ever think that, I promise you." He wrapped his hand around hers securely, the warmth of it rushing through her wildly and said, "I might not know a lot about kissing, _but_ …I do know it would be impossible to think it would be anything less then amazing to kiss someone you think so strongly of."

She held his gaze, holding on to his words. Still though, that sense of doubt was tugging at her heartstrings.

"I don't know how to kiss though," he heard her say.

Patrick thought for a moment, keeping his eyes on Amber, studying the look in her eyes thoroughly.

"Want to hear a secret?" he whispered with a smile.

"Secret?" she asked, puzzled.

Patrick brought his face closer to hers, and murmured into her ear, "The secret to kissing…is not thinking. You don't have to worry about lack of experience or fearing you might do it wrong, because there's no right way. There's no right or wrong…just you and who you're kissing. That's _all_ there is to it."

"And if your heart wants to leap out of your chest?" she whispered back.

Patrick pulled back, smiled lovingly at her question and then whispered so softly she could just make out what he was saying.

" _Let it_."

With his face now hovering only inches from her own, Amber felt her mouth going silent. Gone were any words she would have said in response to that. All she could take in was the fact that her face was so close to his that she could now better see the shade of brown in his eyes. With how close they now were, she knew there was no turning back. Even if she would have been able to pull back, she knew there wasn't a chance in the world she would. No…she had longed for this since she'd pulled this man onto that dance floor just a few weeks ago.

While still feeling her heart pounding in anticipation, she didn't hesitate to lean in closer. Even when the tingling in her body felt so strongly she thought it might cause her to burst, she didn't hold back. She felt her gaze drop only for a moment before re-locking her eyes onto his, that rush of warmth spreading to her cheeks like wildfire. As if hypnotized or under the most enchanted spell that had her spellbound, she found herself feeling so many emotions she thought she might explode from it all.

When the gap between them had closed so that all she could now focus on were his lips drawing closer to her own, only one thought rushed to mind.

 _Don't think, Amber. Just…let it happen_.

And then…it did.

Like two people being pulled together by unseen, magnetic forces, their lips met in what both would describe as an event that was nothing but downright…magical. For Amber, it was hard to believe that only seconds ago she had worried and wondered if she'd even know how it was done. Right then, there wasn't anything else in the world filling her thoughts other then the simple, yet incredible fact that she and Patrick were kissing…and it was more then she could have ever imagined.

He was right. Without having to even think or wonder, she was able to move her lips with his in a way that was all but effortless, natural even. Really, it was like she could let her lips do all the work, as if they knew a secret language she had never heard of. Funnily enough, it was like she could allow them to lead the way while she embraced the countless emotions that now spread through her like electricity.

For Patrick, he felt he must have broken out smiling more then once while kissing her, for it was like nothing he'd ever experienced. Yes, he had heard stories of those who'd recounted what their first kiss had been like but for him, he hadn't expected it to feel this spectacular …this invigorating.

With her eyes closed and mind feeling a million things, it surprised Amber how soft, supple and easily kissable his lips were. It was like their lips danced together so naturally, it left her wondering how she ever felt nervous in the first place. At one point, the feeling of his lips enveloping hers was so wonderfully comforting and exhilarating that without intending to, she actually found herself gasping softly.

How long the kiss lasted, neither one could say for certain. But it was one neither wanted to end, for the feelings it evoked in them were so strong, so wonderful, that they wanted to hold on to them in the fear of letting them vanish. And even while so close, still they didn't feel close enough. As if feeling some sense of emptiness, Amber found her arms wrapping around his neck and at the same time, she felt Patrick's arms around her back, pulling her in closer. She even felt her hands traveling up from his shoulders to rest on his face, where she caressed his cheeks.

When the two finally pulled apart slightly for breath, even then they couldn't quite close the gap between them. Patrick felt Amber resting her head next to his, as if unable to pull away from him entirely.

The two were silent for a solid minute. The song had since ended and the only sounds now remaining were the shower of raindrops, and their own breathing.

"I think a really important realization just came to me," Patrick told her, his voice still in a whisper.

"What?" she asked quietly, keeping her face close to his.

When he spoke next, Amber felt a tickling next to her ear as he murmured, "I love you, Amber Norm."

"Then we came to the same realization," she whispered, pulling away slightly so she could look him right in the eye. "Because I love you too."

Patrick repeated those words in his head and gave her a smile that all but sent shivers down her spine. In that one smile were so many emotions – joy, excitement, love and a great sparkle.

He chuckled lightly and said with a smile still on his face, "Wow…for a moment I thought I heard you say you loved me."

Amber brought her lips to his once again, held them there for a long moment, and then pulled away while running her fingers through his long, soft brown hair.

"I did," she told him, both their eyes seeming brighter and more alive then ever. "I love you, Patrick Mac."

* * *

From far off, a lone stranger was lurking amongst the green, rolling hills under a large, oak tree. He stood there in total silence, his back against the tree and his eyes scanning the environment and people, a small, arrogant smile on his face. His eyes were such a bright blue, that it was almost unnatural.

"Enjoy the fairy tale while it lasts, lovebirds," the man chuckled, looking to the cloudy sky. "Because I assure you…it isn't going to live to see a happily ever after."

Moments later, a large black bird could be seen taking to the sky. With a great flap of its wings, it sped off to the right and within minutes, had disappeared entirely out of sight.


	10. Trapped in Terror

Ever since Patrick and Amber had shared their first date and confessed their love for each other, the two had become what you might call inseparable. It was noticed mostly by those at Chelsea High who'd known that a certain, romantic spark was growing between them for the past few weeks. They'd known back then that something was undoubtedly stirring between them but it wasn't till now that they knew for certain that the two had fallen under the unavoidable spell that was love.

Students would catch them more than once strolling down the hall hand-in-hand while sharing secret laughs. When class was ending, Patrick's next-door neighbour would often visit him and it was when they would kiss that many of the girls would break out in a chorus of, " _awwww_."

"So they're finally together," said Shana, the hopeless romantic of the class.

"Hook, line and sinker," Em answered. "Can't escape love when Cupid's at work."

"Wonder how long it'll take till they're married?" said Shana.

Em chuckled. "Wow, Shana, nothing like giving the two some time."

She shrugged and replied, "They're just so cute together."

Teachers would see the two sitting side-by side in the teacher's lounge, chatting away and looking like two people who'd known each other all their lives. The signs of love were all visible from the way they stared into the other's eyes to the way they frequently joked and poked fun at each other.

There weren't many who didn't now know that Chelsea High's youngest teachers had clearly been struck hard by Cupid's arrows of love.

For Patrick, it was a new and exciting feeling and one he hadn't expected to suddenly pop up in his life, but it had. No longer was he only a teacher and librarian; he was now Amber's boyfriend. Despite the fact that only two months had passed since they'd first met, there was no pushing aside the unmistakable connection that had been dancing like sparks amongst them.

Everyday he told himself he'd do all he could to make her happy and no matter the cost, he swore he wouldn't let anything or anyone harm her. So long as he was around, he'd do all he could to protect her. It was deep inside him that he felt such a strong, protective instinct to ensure she wasn't threatened or harmed in any way. While he knew there was little chance of any serious threats or harms striking them what with the decreased violence nowadays, that didn't stop that protective instinct from being there all the same.

 _I'll take care of her_ , Patrick vowed. _Now and every day after today._

* * *

One day when Amber had finished up her morning teaching, she headed over to Patrick's room. As usual, there she saw him sitting at his wooden desk but immediately, she both saw and sensed that something was different about him. Normally, he appeared calm and relaxed as he was grading assignments or reading or searching the holographic database on his desk.

But just then, there was no smile on his face. He simply sat there with his head dropped slightly and a tired, rather nervous look in his eyes. For the short time that she'd known him, she knew that alone was out of character for Patrick. From the way he sat there still as a statue with his eyes focused solely on his hands, there was no arguing that something was up.

"Hey, Pat," said Amber. She entered the room and walked over to his desk where she gave him a small smile.

It was like he hadn't even registered that she was standing there. A few seconds passed and then he finally lifted his head to look up at her, his eyes still wearing that look of undeniable worry.

"Hi," he said, so quietly she almost didn't catch it.

Amber paused briefly, watching him carefully.

"You okay?" she asked with concern.

Patrick blinked, shook his head and answered, "Y-yeah…just a little tired." He dropped his gaze again and went on staring with unblinking eyes at the table in front of him.

"I was just gonna head downstairs for some lunch," she went on, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You coming?"

Patrick sighed softly and replied with, "I'm not that hungry. You go on ahead."

Amber stared again at Patrick, now more concerned that something was definitely troubling him.

"Patrick, you sure you're okay?" she asked, taking a seat next to him. "You've been so quiet today."

Patrick shuffled in his chair, but didn't respond.

"If something's wrong," she told him, reaching out and grasping his hand lightly. "I wish you'd tell me. I want to help."

"I…it's nothing, really," Patrick said, his voice sounding a million miles away. "Just this feeling."

"What kind of feeling?" she said, keeping his hand enveloped in hers.

Patrick swallowed, took another breath and said nervously, "A bad one."

"About what?"

"I don't know," he said, feeling and sounding incredibly tired. He rubbed his face with his hands, then ran his fingers through his hair as if all he wanted was sleep. "All I know was that I woke up this morning, got out of bed and then I…I just felt so afraid. I can't really describe it any better then that."

Amber wasn't quite sure what to think of that. Patrick himself seemed confused at trying to explain this sense of dread lingering over him so for her, she felt twice as puzzled.

"Maybe it's nothing," she offered, hoping that was indeed the case.

"I hope so," he said wearily. He was silent for a moment, then went on, "But it keeps coming back to me, Amber. It doesn't matter that I try to push it out of my thoughts or try and distract myself with teaching…it's been there for hours."

"Y-you think something bad might happen?" she whispered, fear creeping into her voice.

"Maybe," he whispered back, sounding both sad and more then a little frightened. "I can't say for sure. I just keep feeling this sense of…dread."

Neither knew what to say next. Patrick felt as if unseen tormentors were invading his mind and Amber felt all but powerless to help try to convince him that it was nothing at all and that everything would be fine.

"Maybe we should go down and have some lunch," she suggested, placing her hand softly on his cheek. It pained her to see Patrick look this stressed. "You might feel better once you eat something."

Patrick nodded and got up out of his chair, taking Amber's hand into his own. He managed a small smile as he said, "Lunch it is then."

* * *

The following day, Patrick found that strange, unexplainable sense of dread no longer hovering in his thoughts. He'd gotten a good night's sleep, eaten a healthy breakfast and as he stood there lecturing, he felt like his normal self again. Gone was the fear that something dreadful hung over him; he could now redirect his focus on his teaching and librarian duties. Now that he reflected back on it, it really must have been nothing at all.

He was absolutely, completely wrong.

"Anyone have any questions about what we just reviewed?" Patrick asked the class.

The students all shook their heads 'no'. He was about to continue on with the lecture and introduce the next concept for their latest activity…when he heard something.

Though it made no sense, he swore he'd heard someone calling his name.

" _Patrick_."

Unsure of where it was coming from, Patrick glanced around and realized no one in the room had called out to him. It didn't make sense, till he turned his head to the right and saw a sight that made him second-guess if what he'd been fretting over yesterday truly had been only in his mind.

Standing stock-still outside, staring into the classroom window with unblinking eyes…was a man. He stood there ramrod straight, as if both feet were glued to the floor, preventing him from moving. Who this stranger was, Patrick wasn't sure for he couldn't recall having ever seen this man at the school before. It occurred to him immediately that whoever it was couldn't be a student or teacher of Chelsea High.

He was about Patrick's size and looked about the same age with long, jet-black hair that fell to his shoulders. He was dressed all in black with a dark shirt and torn jeans. His eyes were grayish in color but up close, they appeared more black than anything else. It was a shade of black that would make anyone think of darkness and shadows. While Patrick wasn't able to see just how black the guy's eyes really were, that didn't stop him from feeling that returning sense of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. It was like they were eyes that could reach out and see right into the depths of his very soul, and hear all thoughts that raced through his anxious mind.

Most startling all though was the vacant, expressionless look on his pale face. There were no emotions in those eerily grey eyes and staring at him for even a few seconds was enough to make the teacher's blood run cold. There was something – that much he knew for certain – that was wrong with this man. There was just something that wasn't right.

 _W-who is that_? he thought uneasily. So many thoughts shot through his mind that it was impossible to keep them from clashing.

That was when the guy broke out in the tiniest grin. It seemed to linger on his face for the longest time, till he then opened his mouth and spoke a single word that for whatever reason, the teacher was able to hear.

" _Patrick_."

Patrick blinked in shock, not comprehending what he was seeing, hearing or feeling. There were too many unanswered questions. Who was this guy? Where was he from? What did he want? Why was he there at all? Why was that sense of dread still pounding in his head? Was it real? Was he seeing things? Was he going insane?

There was no stopping the storm of questions that rushed into his head.

The most frightening image of all had yet to reveal itself, however. It wasn't till the man silently placed his hand behind his back, reached into his pocket and pulled something out. When at last Patrick could identify the object resting in the man's hand that he now understood…and it scared him beyond anything else. He could feel the air getting sucked out of his lungs. His heart was starting to race. He felt too heavy to move.

His mind felt like it might burst out of intense fear and terror.

No! the word rang through his mind, echoing eerily.

"Mr. Mac, you okay?" asked Em.

"W-what?" he said, still in a daze. He saw his students watching him with curious expressions but he was quick to answer, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just seeing things today…"

Truth was, he wasn't anywhere close to okay. With each passing second, he was feeling more and more nauseous. Suddenly his skin was starting to feel warm as if the temperature in the room had drastically increased. Whatever it was he'd just witnessed – whether it was real or not – he knew there was no dismissing it as nothing. There was a connection between this stranger and that sense of impending dread that had been haunting him since yesterday. It was like it had been lurking there the entire time but hadn't surfaced till this stranger had appeared to him. But it was all just some nightmarish image fabricated by his restless mind, wasn't it?

Glancing over again at the glass-paned window, his question was answered. It had just been a figment from his imagination. Chilling, yes, but still unfolding only in his mind.

In spite of that, that didn't stop him from still feeling like something horrid was brewing. He felt it in the core of his being. Anyone else might have supposed he was simply crazy but right then, Patrick knew this wasn't just a matter of going insane.

Whatever this was he was feeling…it was frighteningly real.

"I-I'll be right back," Patrick announced, heading for the door.

"You sure you're okay?" Em asked. She locked eyes with the teacher. It was like she could read his behaviours and knew he'd been troubled by something.

Patrick stared at her briefly, and only nodded silently in response. Without a word, he then made his way out the door, striding quickly down the empty hallway.

"What was up with that?" asked Jay, looking across at Em with a puzzled look.

"I don't know," she answered, her eyes still glued to the door. "But something's definitely on his mind."

"Wonder what it is," said Jay. Like Em, his eyes were also on the open doorway.

Em didn't answer. She only went on staring in silence at the door, as if she too were feeling that same sense of dread as her teacher.

As Patrick made his way down the hallway, he kept convincing himself that he wasn't just imagining things. As surreal as what he'd just seen, he knew he hadn't just been seeing things. But there was now someone else he was more worried about and all that mattered to him right then was ensuring she was safe and sound. He wasn't entirely sure why, but after what he'd just seen, some voice in his head was now urging him to find her. After checking her classroom and not seeing her there, he had to take his search elsewhere.

When he reached the staircase, he quickly dug into his pocket and pulled out his comm. After sending her a brief text, he stood there for the next few minutes, waiting for her to respond. She was always quick to respond but as he went on staring intently at the screen, no message was appearing.

Things weren't adding up.

He swallowed, and quickly sent her another text, this one reading: _Amber, where are you? I need to talk to you! Please get back to me._

He waited nervously, each passing second feeling more like a painful lifetime.

But no matter of waiting would do any good, for she wasn't answering him.

"Where are you?" he whispered shakily. He tucked his comm back in his pocket and hurried his way down the stairs, taking two at a time.

 _This isn't right_ , he thought anxiously. _No way am I imagining this! But nothing makes sense. What does it mean? Why do I feel like this? I can't sense things…can I?_

It didn't take him long to make his way to the teacher's lounge, the other place he'd expect to find her. But to his growing panic, when he looked inside, she wasn't anywhere to be seen. He instantly wondered where else she could be. The fact that she hadn't yet answered either of his messages had him fearing she might be in trouble. He tried not letting his mind jump to worse fears but with how he was feeling, that was almost impossible. This just wasn't like her!

As he left the lounge and returned to searching the halls, he found a sudden, unexplainable fear resting on his shoulders. He stopped at once, scanned the halls with trepidation and for reasons he couldn't begin to explain, felt strangely exposed. It was hard to describe what exactly it was he felt. Alone? Powerless? Vulnerable?

Was there a chance she could have stopped by the library? As she'd become his most frequent visitor, it wouldn't surprise him to find her there, sitting at one of the stations with the holographic computers, enjoying one of the countless books.

Yes! That's where he'd find her. Already his mind had settled on what would soon happen. Once he found her, he'd explain everything to her and after hearing his story, she'd put all his fears to rest and assure him it was all okay. There was nothing to fear and never had been anything to fear.

It was at the exact moment when he was just starting to believe he'd worried for nothing that the P.A. system came alive. Typically, announcements at the school were mostly related to sports or upcoming social events like fundraisers or bake sales or a number of other activities.

But what he soon heard made him desperately wish that he'd stayed up in his classroom and not gone searching the halls. It made him wish they were together up in his classroom so as to be safe and protected from the unavoidable chaos that was now about to unfold. Instead, they were apart and still having received no answer from her, he still hadn't any idea where he might find her and above all, if she was safe.

The voice that came through the P.A. system belonged to that of Ms. Simmons, founder and director of Chelsea High. Though Patrick wasn't able to see her face to face, he could hear plain as anything the evident fear in her voice. Normally, she was a woman who spoke with a mixture of calmness and authority, but that wasn't the case today. As she spoke, her voice cracked as if the words themselves were difficult to speak.

As the message came through the system, Patrick froze and felt his whole body tense up upon hearing what Ms. Simmons had to say.

"Attention staff and students. It is necessary at this time to begin an immediate lockdown of the entire school. I repeat, an immediate lockdown of the entire school is now required. All students are to remain in their classrooms. Any students in the hallways are to enter the nearest classroom at once. Teachers are to ensure their classrooms are securely locked. No one under any circumstances is to leave their classroom until further notice."

It was the last portion of the speech that caused Patrick to feel so faint, he feared he'd collapse in a matter of seconds.

"It has come to our attention that an unidentified gunman has entered the school, and has threatened to bomb the school should any student or teacher attempt to approach him. All students and staff are to remain hidden until help has arrived."

As soon as the P.A. system went dead, Patrick did all he could to keep from panicking. It was just yesterday that he'd felt some impending sense of fear and danger but he'd rejected that as nothing. At the time, he'd assumed there'd been nothing to fear, but now hearing those words echo in his mind, he knew he'd been right.

There _had_ been something to fear…and now it had found its way to Chelsea High.

He had to focus, and not let the rising panic take hold of him. It was forcing his mind to focus that it all became clear to him and as a result, his thoughts went to one place and one place only.

Despite that Ms. Simmons had strictly ordered that all students and staff remain in the nearest classroom, he now had a plan of his own. Until he knew that she was safe and out of harm's way, there was only one thing on his racing mind right then and that was finding her. It was like all the director had said had gone right through one ear and out the other. There would be no ensuring his own safety until she was protected. That was all that mattered to him. It didn't matter that he was out in the open and completely defenseless and not taking cover like everyone else. How could he go into hiding till he knew where she was and if she was safe?

As one of the English teachers spotted him passing by, she called to him, "Patrick, in here! Hurry!"

"I-I can't," was all Patrick could say. He didn't even turn to look in the woman's direction.

"Patrick!" she called again, more adamantly.

 _I have to find her_ , he thought, unable to think of anything else. _I have to. I have to keep her safe!_

With those overriding thoughts in his aching mind, he then broke out running. Moving faster then he'd ever done his entire life, he sped through the multiple halls of Chelsea High, the sound of his heart pounding like thunder in his ringing ears. From every direction, the sound of panicked voices and dozens of footsteps filled the air, followed by the sound of classroom doors quickly being closed. It didn't matter what room they were in, so long as they were no longer in the most dangerous area of the school – the open hallways.

"In here, now!" one of the teachers ordered, her voice noticeably shaken. Waving her arms frantically, she motioned for the students to quicken the pace. "Hurry!"

"W-where is he?" asked one of the girls, her voice quivering. She was clearly growing more frightened by the second, tears slipping down her cheeks and her body shivering like she had a cold.

The teacher placed both hands on the girl's trembling shoulders and hurriedly led her into the classroom. She explained to her bluntly, "We don't know. But we've got to get everyone out of the halls and into a room."

"B-but what if he finds us?" she stammered in fear.

"We don't know what'll happen," the teacher answered softly, her voice also quavering.

Like a herd of petrified animals, the students couldn't move fast enough. Even moving as quickly as they were, still it felt like the gunman was creeping up behind them, ready to strike. Teachers wasted no time in ensuring students were led into a room and once the halls were empty, went on to follow Ms. Simmon's instructions. Doors were locked, windows were closed, blinds were pulled down and everyone hid as best they could, wherever that might be. Whether it was beneath cupboards, desks, tables or beneath windows, they hid and prayed this unfolding nightmare would soon reach its end.

The students and teachers were now hiding in silence in one of the various classrooms, fearful that even their own breathing might give them away.

Everyone… _except_ Patrick.

How long had he now been racing through the school? One minute? Five minutes? Ten? Since the announcement, time had since become irrelevant. He could have been running for hours and it wouldn't matter, not till he found her and brought her to safety. And if worst came to worst and he was unable to guarantee her safety, then the least he could do was be there for her. If they weren't able to make it out of this school alive, then all he hope was that he and the woman he loved would face this horror…together.

That was when a new fear had crept into Patrick's mind. Would she be left unprotected and forced into a corner, only to then have to face this armed threat alone, with no one beside her? That thought alone was enough to make him feel like the school itself might come crashing down on him, to crush him and suffocate him.

He couldn't let that happen. He _wouldn't._ But the question of where she was still hadn't yet been answered, and it was killing him. Having received no answer from her through his comm, his mind jumped to the most frightening thought of all.

Had the gunman already gotten to her? But he instantly dismissed that as impossible, for he hadn't yet heard the sound of bullets, so she very well could still be safe. But for how long? He hadn't the slightest idea of the whereabouts of she and the gunman. Had she stumbled upon him and was now seconds away from becoming his first victim?

Thinking like that was too much for him, so he did his best to stay focused. Stay alive, find her, and do what he could to ensure her safety he told himself repeatedly.

It was when he'd made his way to the first floor that he felt the smallest sense of…hope. It was faint but no matter how small, it was there. And with that slight bit of hope, it was like he knew he'd soon find her. She wasn't far off now. Could it be that she was just around the corner? He felt his mind race at the possibility. Was there a chance he might still be able to reach her?

After another minute of careful searching…that question was answered.

"A-Amber?" he whispered, the words catching in his throat.

She was lying under one of the glass-paned windows, her head resting on the tiled floor with her eyes closed. How long she'd been there, Patrick didn't know, but the horrid fear that she may already dead struck him. Was he too late?

In a panic, he rushed over to her and kneeled down, placing his fingers gently on her neck. A few seconds passed and to his great relief, his fingers detected a pulse. Better yet, as he did a quick inspection, he spotted no signs that she had been shot. There was no blood or signs that she was injured in any way.

"Amber?" he said apprehensively. He placed his hands on her shoulders and was again relieved when she stirred.

"Amber, we have to go!" he said hastily, the panic evident in his voice.

"W-what?" she asked groggily.

"You have to get up…now!"

"P-Patrick?" she asked dazedly. She opened her eyes, focused on him and asked, "What's going on?"

"Hurry!" he urged, taking her by the arm and leading them down the hall.

"Patrick?" she said uneasily, her voice wavering. "What's wrong?"

He didn't answer. He kept leading them down the silent, empty hall with an alarmed look in his eyes.

"Patrick!" she cried, staring at him with unblinking eyes. "What is it?"

When he spoke, Amber felt all the color drain out of her face.

"W-we have to hide," he stammered. His eyes were darting to and fro nervously.

"From what?"

"He…he's got a gun." His voice was hardly audible, as if the words were physically painful to speak. "He's threatened to blow up the school."

Amber's throat had gone instantly dry. There wasn't a single thing she could think of to say to that, for she'd gone completely numb. She wanted to wake up from all this and know that what he'd just said was all but an awful dream. She would have thought she might have been dreaming too, if not for what she heard next.

Upon hearing it, both she and Patrick stiffened.

Tearing through the silence like a violent, bloodthirsty scream…was the sound of a bullet.

Even more startling was the unavoidable truth that now dawned on them. There was no escaping the truth, no matter how terrible it was.

"He's on this floor," she whispered in terror.

Immediately, horrific images flashed through her mind. Had someone just been shot down in cold blood? Was the carnage only now just beginning? Were she and Patrick next?

"He'll kill us all," she whispered, fearing more then ever that death would soon spread through the school like an unavoidable virus. "We have to—" but glancing to Patrick, she saw his eyes were closed and he looked to be fighting back tears.

As soon as the sound of the screaming bullet had reached his ears, a series of unnerving images flashed through Patrick's mind. One by one they revealed themselves, all blurring together in such a way that he felt the grief of it all would smother him.

He was standing on the corner of a lonely sidewalk. Wind howled through the streets, sounding more like a tortured, forlorn moan. The steady, torrential downpour of rain felt like tiny boulders pounding down on him. Light from the overhead streetlamps flickered on and off. Just hours ago the area had been alive with the usual sound of people, chatter and noise but right then, it couldn't have appeared more dead and forgotten. Everything from the wooden benches to the multiple buildings seemed to be cast in ominous shadows.

And then he saw them. No longer could he feel the storm of raindrops or see the flickering lights or hear the echoing howling wind.

The man and woman were strolling down the street with interlocked hands and smiles on their faces. Little did the two know that when they would set out on that day, they would end up staring death in the face.

Glancing behind him, Patrick saw an even bigger, taller man skulking behind them. The look showing in his eyes was enough to make his blood run cold. There was no joy, light, kindness or sincerity when he caught sight of those eyes. No, when he looked into those greyish eyes, he saw nothing but madness and evil.

In his hand, the man held a gun and when Patrick hollered out to the man and woman, his voice was inaudible. He realized with horror that no one could hear him. Waving his arms in growing panic, it struck him that not only that, but he was practically a ghost. To them, it was like he wasn't even there. He was all but an unfortunate witness in this tragic event and despite how loudly he screamed…his voice reached no one. He was an unseen, howling ghost in this now eerie and lonely town and his efforts to call out to his doomed parents were painfully futile.

"Y-you have to look!" he screamed, refusing to accept what he already knew.

The man was drawing nearer to the oblivious victims, like a fox creeping up on unsuspecting prey.

That was when Patrick rushed over to his parents, still not believing they couldn't see or hear him. They had to! Surely they'd have to see him now! While the clock continued ticking, that didn't stop him from doing all he could to warn them.

"Run!" he begged. The tears were now flooding from his eyes. "He's right behind you!" His voice clutched in his throat. His mouth felt terribly dry, like he hadn't drank in days. "Please, get out of here!"

But still they couldn't see or hear him. Even when he reached out to shake their shoulders, he was all but air. The painful truth was that his parents were now unable to escape from this horrid fate. Behind them was a vicious predator with his prey directly in sight and no matter of his hollering would do any good.

Patrick surrendered to the weight of pain overtaking him. He collapsed to the ground, the tears now so heavy in his eyes, he could barely see two feet in front of him. His hands shook horribly and his breaths came in quick, shallow gasps for air, but none of that mattered. All he saw was this monster raising his gun and preparing to unleash hell on two innocent people.

Knowing what was about to unfold, Patrick couldn't bear to watch. As he covered his head with his hands to block out the horror, that didn't stop him from hearing. The screaming sound of the bullets tore through the night. It all happened so quickly, he couldn't remember it all. All he registered was the sound of multiple bullets, the cries of his parents and the sound of their now lifeless bodies hitting the ground like ragdolls.

He couldn't believe it. There was no way this could be true. He had to be seeing things. He couldn't be staring at the bodies of his parents!

Then the cold-blooded killed turned and looked at him, his eyes still gleaming with unspeakable madness.

The last thing Patrick saw was the gun that had just killed his parents now aimed directly at him.

"Patrick!"

Patrick shook himself together, and noticed Amber standing beside him, watching him with sheer worry on her face.

"We have to move!" she reminded him urgently.

"R-right!" stammered Patrick, still trying to shake loose what he'd just witnessed.

They were almost at the end of the hall. No gunshots had been fired in the past few seconds, so the two could only prey they were out of harm's way long enough to get to a classroom. Even better, maybe help was arriving at that very second and soon the gunman would be surrounded by an even more intimidating force than himself, and the whole alarming event would come to an end. It was all they could hope for as they drew closer to the end of the hall.

A few, precious seconds was all they needed. Just a few seconds to allow them the time to get out of the hall and into a classroom where they could be better protected and hidden behind a locked door.

It was a few seconds that got snatched right out of their grasp. They had been so close and yet so hopelessly far from reaching safety, but their efforts were all but in vain. Even if they'd ran a little faster and pumped their legs a little harder, still their efforts would have been for nothing. They'd never had a chance of escaping from that lonely hall because waiting for them around the corner and at the end of the hallway was what Patrick had been running from since the moment he'd first heard the warning from Ms. Simmons.

Neither were aware of this till they were just reaching the far end of the hall and then…they _saw_ him.


	11. Nothing Short of a Nightmare

Both teachers froze, realizing all at once that their one chance of escaping to safety had just been destroyed. So close they'd been to reaching that door and rushing inside but with this recent turn of events, that was now downright impossible. The realization came rushing at them like a violent punch to the gut, but there was no ignoring the truth. Of all the people now within Chelsea High, they were the only two still out in the open. They were now painfully vulnerable. Gone was any hope of protection. Gone was the chance of them remaining hidden till the chaos was over.

They had now found themselves staring square into the face of the chaos itself.

None of the students or teachers was aware of the fact that two teachers had now stepped directly into the sights of a ravenous predatory. For them, they hoped help had already arrived and was now defusing the terror. They hoped all would return to normal and this wave of terror would be washed away from the school.

They couldn't have been more wrong.

The wave of terror was only about to worsen.

It took Patrick all of one second to realize where he'd seen this guy before. He might not have known him personally, but he'd seen him only minutes ago. He was the sort of person one simply couldn't forget or let slip from your mind. Though he hadn't met him in person up till now, he recalled that unsettling image that had taken hold of his mind like poison. He'd been in his classroom when he'd turned his attention to the window, only to then see this stranger dressed all in black staring back at him with that vacant, sinister expression. It didn't matter that it had all been up in his mind; it couldn't have felt more frighteningly real.

And now more frighteningly, it was real. This was no illusion or trick of the mind.

It was all too real.

Like before, he was dressed head to toe in jet black with grey eyes but seeing him standing there in the flesh was downright chilling. That was the only word he could think of to describe him. Unlike before, Patrick noticed he now wore a long black coat that completely covered his shirt and torn jeans. Locking eyes with him for a brief, unnerving second, Patrick swore his racing heart skipped a beat. Little did he know this was just the sort of effect the stranger could have on those who stumbled across him. A simple look in your eye was all it took to leave one's head throbbing, or feeling like the world was spinning or that their whole being had gone numb with fear.

When his eyes caught side of the gun still at his side, he felt an uncomfortable lump rise in his throat. It was hard to explain the kind of fear he now felt then. It was a kind of fear he'd only ever encountered once – when he'd been forced to accept that his parents had been murdered.

At the time, he'd hoped he'd never have to experience that kind of fear again.

But now history was repeating itself. Once more would he be forced to endure that unbearable weight of fear. Once more would he be struck down by a fear that crept into his soul to try and darken every happy thought that had ever existed there.

Without thinking, Patrick took Amber by the hand and silently and cautiously started pulling her back. He knew there was no escaping this armed monster, but the only thought crossing his mind right then was protecting her. Though his heart went on pounding and his mind felt dizzy, he wasn't even thinking of himself. All that mattered was keeping her safe from this bloodthirsty killer. Whatever protection he could offer her, she'd be given instantly. Even if it meant using himself as a means of protection, she'd be given that protection without question.

So long as she was kept safe from the waiting gun in that madman's hands, then he could let his mind sink into a state of peace. Knowing that he'd succeeded in his vow to protect her from harm, that alone would prove he had conquered this monster. To know that he'd prevented anyone from harming or laying a finger on her, would be an extraordinary relief in itself.

But still the frightening question remained.

What was it this gunman wanted?

"Where ya goin'?" the guy asked, his voice strangely and chillingly calm. "Got nowhere to hide." He didn't budge, follow them or even raise his gun to open fire. He merely stood there with his arms at his side and an eerie smile on his face.

"T-the police are coming," Amber struggled to say, barely getting the words out. "They're gonna be h-here any—"

"Minute?" the guy asked, finishing her sentence. He laughed and shot back cockily, "You think I give a damn?"

It was clear this was a guy who wasn't worried in the slightest about getting caught. It was all too obvious this was a guy who went out searching for trouble and concerned himself only with whatever evil task it was he had in mind. Right then, he didn't fret about the police snatching hold of him because the only priority was achieving what he'd set out to do. Things like the police just weren't a threat to someone like him and the two were already starting to realize this.

Patrick stared at the guy with unblinking eyes. Back and forth, he kept glancing between the guy's glaring eyes and the gun grasped in his hand. His mind had gone entirely blank; he was having trouble processing what was happening. The whole event felt completely and utterly like a nightmare. But unlike the nightmares he'd encountered over the years, none of them could quite compare to what he was experiencing right then. He tried to seek clarity, but his mind was racing in too many directions. Try as he might, he just couldn't seem to make sense of where he was, what was happening and why it was all happening at all.

And just like the gunman was so easily able to do with those that found themselves trapped in his presence, Patrick suddenly felt lightheaded. It was like all the color was draining from him, leaving him feeling tired, weak and confused. He feared if he went on staring at this guy for even a moment longer, he might black out from the overwhelming terror spreading inside him.

But no matter how much pounding was going on inside his head, there wasn't a chance in the world he'd let that happen. If he passed out and went unconscious, then who would be there to protect Amber? Who would be there to ensure she wasn't struck down in cold blood?

The answer was no one. And if he had any hopes of keeping her safe, then he had to overcome whatever light-headedness was trying to consume him and focus only on remaining in front of her.

"Y-you're not really gonna bomb the school," Amber uttered, her voice cracking. She could tell by the man's smirk that he'd sensed the sheer terror in her voice, and it was all but amusing to him. For a sick and twisted guy like himself, it was rewarding knowing he could inflict such fear into people, and those unfortunate enough to land right in his sights. It gave him a power that no sane, ordinary person could ever make sense of.

Amber swallowed hard, and went on, "People only say that so everyone will—"

"Really?" the guy interrupted with an arrogant grin. "You think so?"

He then spread his arms out on either side of him and it was unmistakable what he'd cleverly placed in the pockets of his black coat – bombs. They were round-shaped and though small in size, there was no doubt in Amber's mind they held enough force to bring down the entire school and leave it in ashes while blasting every person inside it to bits. From where she stood, she guessed there were close to ten bombs and as she looked from one explosive to the next, she almost stopped breathing. The sight of those deadly weapons was so devastating, it was like her lungs were forgetting how to breathe.

"Still think I'm bluffing?"

Patrick took a nervous breath and asked shakily, "W-what do you want? Money? Because I can give you that! Anything you want, I'll give you! J-just tell us what you want."

The response he got from the guy wasn't what he wanted to hear. In a situation as dire as theirs, it was the last thing in the world they wanted to hear. The words themselves couldn't have hit them any harder.

Before answering though, the man opened his mouth and let out a laugh. It was unlike any laugh either had ever heard, but it was one that sent chills down both their spines. It was a laugh not heard by all those hiding in classrooms, but one that was only heard by Patrick and Amber. It was a laugh that belonged to that of a maniac and nothing less.

Unable to keep from snickering, the guy replied calmly, "I don't want your money." His victim had no idea how truly hopeless it was to try and bargain with a lunatic and his one-track mind.

"W-what do you want then?" asked Patrick, an abrupt shiver shooting up his body.

" _You_ ," was the gunman's unnerving response. He was now staring intently at the man opposite him. Not once did his eyes blink, nor did his body move even the slightest. That was because it was now locked in place. He was exactly where he needed to be…and so was his target.

Patrick stared back at the guy, his head swimming with dread and confusion. He hadn't been aware of it, but up till then, his heart had started beating faster than he thought possible, as if it sensed what was coming.

The guy went on laughing as if it was all but comical for him, and then raised his gun. It appeared there was more going on in this guy's head than Patrick wanted to believe, and he feared he and Amber had landed themselves dead center in this tragic position. Was there no chance of dodging this unrelenting lunacy? Whatever the case, it occurred to the teacher that if the police didn't arrive on time, then whatever it was this guy had in mind…there'd be absolutely no way of stopping it. But then would it matter if the police arrived on time? Was there truly no hope of escape? Whatever sick, abysmal plan it was he'd taken the time to meticulously map out, he feared there might not be anyone who'd be able to prevent it from occurring.

"I don't care for money," the guy growled.

"J-just think this over first," Patrick desperately implored, but with a grim feeling that whatever he said from that point on would accomplish nothing.

"I'm not here to screw around!" the guy snapped impatiently, clenching his teeth. "So don't waste your time trying to!"

Dumbfounded, Patrick opened his mouth and whispered fretfully, "You don't want to do this…"

His words went in one ear and out the other for the gunman. He knew the second the words had left his mouth that this guy considering what Patrick had to say would mean all but nothing to him. For him, he didn't care what the two teachers had to say and any efforts they had of attempting to escape were simply pathetic to him. Laughable even.

"I came here for one reason and one reason only," he hissed, his gun still raised. "And that was to spill blood." He paused briefly, chuckled and then declared under his breath, "Question is…whose _blood_ will I spill?"

Patrick took in the gunman's words and without hesitating for even a second, took hold of Amber's other hand. He was now standing directly in front of her, squeezing her hands tightly, though she felt them trembling terribly. As for herself, she fought hard to stay under control but with each passing second, she thought the world might crash down upon them. She couldn't avert her eyes from the dreaded gun that was pointed directly at them; it was like she was hypnotized. Though she wasn't, it felt like she was trapped underwater and was struggling to reach the far-off surface, but no amount of struggling was going to help. Just as she'd be unable to reach the surface and re-fill her lungs with fresh, much-needed air, she'd be just as unable to fall out of this killer's sight and miraculously escape his gun.

Taking a painful breath, Patrick asked the guy in a trembling voice, "W-why are you doing this?"

"We never did anything to you!" Amber cried, tears filling her eyes.

"I've been sent here on strict orders," the guy told them, his voice colder then ever. "There's an important question that needs answering. And I'm not one to disappoint."

"Whose orders?" Patrick managed to ask.

"That…is confidential," the guy said, grinning. "Don't worry though…you'll have the pleasure of meeting him soon enough. Just know that I can blow you all to nothing at the press of a button. There's nothing stopping me. Better yet, I could have some fun with that one there—" and here he grinned even wider at Amber.

"You're not gonna lay a _finger_ on her!" Patrick shot back with sheer intensity. It was an intensity that made the gunman cock his head to the side in curiosity, but for Amber, it left her speechless. Not once in the time that she'd known him had she heard Patrick speak with such force. There wasn't a quiver or tremble in his voice when he spoke those words.

"Ahh," said the gunman with a knowing smirk. "So you do care for her?"

Patrick kept his eyes locked intently on the guy, refusing to look away.

"You're not going to hurt her," he said again, still with that unwavering intensity. "As long as I'm here, she won't be harmed."

"Very well then," the guy said, sounding satisfied. "You've just answered my question then." His voice took on an eerie tone as he proclaimed, "Looks like it'll be your blood that gets spilled… _Patrick Mac_."

Patrick blinked in surprise and asked uneasily, "H-how do you know me?"

"I know you very well," the guy answered, throwing him an unsettling wink. "And I should. I ought to know the one whose own parents I killed…"

"Y-you!" the teacher gasped, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. He shook his head and cried out in anguish, "You killed them!"

"Indeed," the gunman confirmed. "Now I'm here to finish the job."

Patrick's mind was reeling. Standing before him was the man who'd shot down his parents in cold blood. He was the one who'd torn apart his family. It was he who'd left him more lonely and saddened for the longest time.

"You murdered them," Patrick whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. "T-they did nothing to you!"

The gunman shrugged and laughed, "That's life my friend. Don't always get what we want…now do we?"

Patrick couldn't think of anything else. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was now standing before the man who'd violently stolen the lives of his parents. It all felt so much like a nightmare that he wondered if he was still within reality.

"Now tell me, teacher," the gunman said calmly. "Are you true to your word?"

"What do you mean?" Patrick asked unsteadily.

"Did you mean what you said?" he asked, impatience creeping into his voice. "So long as you're here…she won't get hurt?"

"Leave him alone!" yelled Amber, praying more then anything that the whole nightmare would somehow end.

"I'd _strongly_ suggest you stay out of this," the guy snarled, staring at her momentarily. "This is between Patrick and I."

Patrick inhaled shakily, working hard to keep himself from going over the edge with fear.

"You'll just kill us all," the teacher replied in defeat. "It doesn't matter what I do. You'll still kill everyone else. Or—"

"Wrong," the guy quickly interrupted. "I don't care about this foolish school of yours. Nor do I care for that frightened mess behind you. If what you said is true…then only one man's blood will be spilled today…yours."

Amber shook her head furiously, refusing to accept this guy's frightening statement.

"No!" she howled. "Y-you cant! He…he doesn't deserve this!" She then broke free of Patrick's grasp and stepped boldly in front of him and shot back, "Take me if you want…but you're not gonna—"

"No!" Patrick argued, laying a hand on Amber's shoulder. "Stay behind me."

"You're _not_ doing this!" she screamed, the weight of panic rushing upon her. "There's no way I'm—"

"Get behind me," he repeated, locking eyes with her. After a short pause, his voice softened as he whispered, " _Please_ , Amber?"

Despite her efforts to remain in front of Patrick, he would not be denied. He was so firm that try as she might, he would not allow her to step out from behind him. She could tell it pained him to see the anguish in her eyes, but still he would not be denied. Just as he'd silently vowed, he would not allow her to be harmed. And as with before, if he could sacrifice himself as a means of protection against this lunatic…then that was what would happen.

"T-the police will be here soon," Amber stammered, feeling Patrick tighten his grasp on her hand.

"Not here yet…are they?" the guy chuckled, shrugging. "Thanks for the reminder though. Almost forgot."

Refocusing his attention solely on Patrick, the guy announced, "Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna stay right where you're at. So long as you stay put and do as you're told, no one gets hurt. No one else gets hurt, so to speak. But you make even a single attempt to run off, and I blow this no-good school to pieces…killing every student and teacher, not to mention that precious girlfriend of yours. So what's it gonna be? Your life…or the lives of thousands?"

Patrick had no time to even repeat those words in his own head, for an alarming thing then happened.

Standing there, staring into the soulless depths, he felt an unnatural, unexplainable chill sweep over him. While there was no emotion in the eyes of the man that had taken the lives of his parents, there was something else, and it only made him feel ten times colder. It was like blocks of ice were forming on every part of his body. The blood and warmth that normally flowed through him was draining, and replacing it was an uncomfortable chill that could have left his heart frozen and dead. What he saw in that man's eyes made his knees go weak, his heart beat faster, and his mind plunge into a state of sheer numbness.

More disturbing still was the fact that Patrick found he was unable to shut his eyes or avert his gaze. The only place he could focus on was what was now unfolding through the killer's eyes; it was a sight that both looked and felt like death itself. For the shaken teacher, one realization struck him all too clearly.

All but a single person was meant to see the horrific images emerging in those emotionless eyes – and that person was Patrick.

What he was then shown – a sight so painful and unforgettable – made his throat feel like it had swollen up to the point where he feared he'd never be able to utter another word again.

It was like the sights had been yanked right out of a hundred nightmares and given the power to make their way into reality.

As Patrick stared into the guy's eyes, he was first brought to the entrance of Chelsea High. But as he immediately realized, this wasn't the familiar school he had looked upon so many times. That was because it was no more. All that was left of the once great school was a few sad, pitted remains. What was once a school was now a world of ruins. As the teacher's eyes scanned from left to right in search of something recognizable, he came up empty. Classrooms were no more, hallways had been obliterated, walls were demolished, and the roof had been destroyed entirely. The library – a place that had been like a second home to Patrick – was gone as well. No longer would he be able to stroll into the classroom that he'd done so much of his teaching in. Like the rest of the school, it had been blown to bits.

Everything that had made Chelsea High the school it was…was _gone._

The man had killed both of his parents and now he had kept true to his word; what Patrick's eyes now took in was proof of that. As the school now consisted merely of ashes, it meant the guy had indeed set off the bombs that had caused the deadly explosion that had resulted in the devastation of Chelsea High's death. And though the annihilation of the school was all but tragic, there was a sight much worse that had yet to be discovered. All he was currently taking in was the overwhelming image of his demolished school, but the worst of the nightmare had yet to make itself known.

Without a word, Patrick slowly made his way up to where the entrance doors once stood. Like a puppet on strings, he felt whatever control he had over his own body had long since vanished. Whether he wanted to or not, he had no choice but to keep on walking.

When he stopped and lifted his gaze, he quickly noticed that the school was once more intact. Gone were the hundreds of ruined pieces and cloud of black smoke that engulfed all other colors. Chelsea High was again standing tall and appearing as it had prior to being targeted by this unexpected nightmare.

Before he could reach out, Patrick watched in stunned surprise as both doors swung open, as if being controlled by an unseen force. With the grim feeling that the true horror was waiting inside, the teacher had no choice but to advance into the school. There, he was finally shown the true tragedy that he had been warned of just moments ago.

Upon entering, he was met with the familiar, comforting sight of the school prior to being struck down by multiple, explosive attacks. Everything was back in place – the decorative floors, hallways, classrooms and the thousands of students that went about their day. Such familiar sights brought Patrick back to all the time he'd spent at the school, and all the memories came flooding back. No longer was he staring ahead at a scene of rubble and wreckage but rather, the calming, welcoming sight of his old school.

This comforting image, sadly, was soon wiped out within seconds.

As Patrick turned the corner to head down one of the halls, he stopped short. Standing at the far end of the hall like an ominous shadow was the stranger. Like before, he was standing stock still with his arms at his side, and a dark gleam in his eyes. A small, devilish grin spread across his pale face, and just as Patrick was about to head back the other way, he found his feet were glued to the floor. There was no way to escape whatever it was that was about to occur.

A few seconds was all it took.

A scent of death and despair soon filled the school and amidst all the erupting panic and chaos, all hell broke loose. The bombs exploded, the world turned bleak and dark and a vast smoke filled the air that crept right into Patrick's aching throat. At once, he broke out coughing and gasping for air, while the screams of his fellow teachers and the thousands of students left him trembling in fear. That was the worst of all – the terrified screams of so many vulnerable, doomed students. It all but broke his heart. Chills shot up his spine as he struggled to see through the thickening cloud of smoke. It was near impossible to see anything, though his ears already told him what was happening.

It felt like a lifetime before the endless smoke finally began thinning. Now his burning eyes could see past the billowing cloud of blackness. A moment or two was all it took, but when Patrick opened his eyes to see the hell that had now been born, he wished the world of smoke would swallow him up. He wanted to be anywhere but there, but he had no way of escaping, for he was now trapped himself.

What he saw in front and all around him…was death. It made no difference where he looked, for it was all around him. Scattered about him like ragdolls were the bodies of the teachers and students of Chelsea High. The longer he stared, the harder it became to go on standing there. His feet were now shaky, and a pounding, unrelenting pain was grabbing hold of him. He didn't want to see any more of this heartbreak.

It wasn't till he turned and looked down the hall that his fears were confirmed.

There wasn't a single survivor.

As the lonely teacher looked from person to person, he was met with the same frightening sight of their unblinking eyes staring lifelessly up at nothing. Only minutes ago these same students had been alive – chatting and laughing with friends.

Now they were dead.

Patrick felt tears sliding down his cheeks. He felt if was forced to go on staring at this tragic scene any longer, he'd collapse to the ground from how numb his body had become.

But the one orchestrating all this pain wasn't yet finished with the teacher.

One heart-wrenching scene had yet to be uncovered.

Without having to move, when Patrick next looked around, he found himself at the opposite end of the school, up on the third floor. Instantly, he saw that he'd been dropped in front of a closed door and glancing up at the top of the door, his heart sank.

It was the door leading into Amber's classroom.

He didn't need to look inside to know what he would already find.

It was the last act of this unfolding scene of anguish.

Like with the entrance doors to the school, the classroom door slowly began opening, and all Patrick wanted was to vanish. But as much as it pained him to accept the truth, he couldn't escape from the sad fact that he was merely a puppet on strings. He was in no control of what he did or where he went. He was like a dog on a leash and with each passing moment, he felt that leash dragging him along violently.

While he knew what he'd see inside that room would leave him broken, he hadn't known just how painfully true that was. He willed his feet to wake up and move and a few steps later, and he felt the air get sucked out of his lungs. He thought he might faint from the sheer sight of it. Somewhere in the explosion that had hammered the school, two teachers had been sucked into the unstoppable bedlam.

He wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Was he really seeing this?

What he was seeing were two teachers both on the floor, their eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. The floor was sprayed in a pool of blood, and no matter which way he looked at it, the truth was staring him straight in the face.

One of the teachers he was now staring at was…himself.

It was a strange, unnerving feeling to see his own body there on the floor, but even that wasn't the most startling realization. In spite of how alarming it was to see his own lifeless body, it was the body next to his own that he couldn't wrap his head around or come to accept. All the death and despair he'd seen was now rushing upon him, but what his disbelieving eyes now saw just about sent him over the edge.

Both his mind and heart refused to believe what his eyes were telling him. She couldn't be dead. Just recently the two had confessed their feelings for each other. In their eyes, the future held so much for them, but that was a future that had since been stolen from them. He would never get the chance to say again, "I love you." In five years time, he'd never know where the two would have been, and what joys life might have brought them.

" _No_ ," he cried, a lump forming in his throat. It was like he could hardly speak, for the lump now in his throat felt so heavy.

With the small bit of strength that was still inside him, he forced himself to walk forward, drawing closer to the fallen victim. With each step, he felt the strength draining out of him and when at last he stopped, he found himself standing over the body of the woman who'd entered his life and latched on to his heart. In the short time he'd known her, she'd awoken something in him that no one else had ever done. So much he'd seen of her – sadness at reflecting on her younger years, energy and fun, a passion for leaning and knowledge.

He shook his head, not believing the sight in front of him to be true. She couldn't be dead.

"Amber?" he croaked out. He kneeled down beside her, and touched her cheek with his hand and at once, the tears carried on sliding down his face. The instant his hand touched her face, he felt no warmth. Her face was cold as stone, as was the rest of her body. When he lifted his other hand from over her heart, he saw blood dripping from his quivering fingers.

He placed a hand on either side of her face, and cried out frantically, "Come on, Amber! Wake up!" When he gently placed a finger on her neck where he should have felt a pulse, he felt nothing. Never again would her now sleeping heart beat. All but an ominous silence now filled the room that was broken up by the sound of his own defeated cries.

But no amount of shouting would do any good. He knew there was no ignoring the truth, though still he couldn't find it in himself to accept it as true.

"No," he cried, surrendering himself to the tears. He took a shaky breath, swallowed and snivelled, "Y-you can't be dead." It wasn't till then that he noticed how small her body looked lying there on the floor, and it made him want to cry that much harder.

She was gone.

Amber Norm – the woman he'd fallen under the spell of love with – was gone.

Now more than ever he wished the walls would close in on him and take him out of this miserable place.

"I-I'm _sorry_ , Amber," he whispered, unable to take his hand off of her cheek. "I didn't mean for this to happen. None of this was supposed to happen."

Rising to his feet, he slowly started for the door and though he was unsteady, he managed to stay on his feet. It was hard to believe this had once been a room that was meant to inspire and encourage leaning. It was now a place of death and destruction. As for Amber, he simply couldn't bear to look at her fallen body anymore.

He had just been shown what would happen should he decide to attempt to escape this madman's clutches…and it couldn't have left him any more frightened.

When he reached the open doorway, it dawned on him that it was all too clear what had to be done. After having witnessed what this monster had achieved at Chelsea High, it couldn't have been any clearer.

Once more, he said in a rattled voice, "I'm sorry, Amber." He then whispered sadly to the many students and teachers, "I'm so sorry." It was all he could say, for that painful lump had risen again and left him at a loss for words.

Before departing the room, however, he fought against that uncomfortable lump and declared to himself quietly, "It has to be done."

 _There's no other way_ , he thought, a sudden weight of grief pressing down on him.

The world then began spinning. The walls came tumbling down in a hundred pieces, and was followed by the sound of screaming. Everything around him was sucked into a state of blackness. A foul smell lingered in the air and just when Patrick was wondering if he'd ever make it out of this nightmarish hell…a blinding light flashed brightly in front of him.

It didn't take him long to realize that he'd been pulled out of the horror.

He had returned to yet another horror that was reality.

The petrifying vision he'd been shown had lasted all but a few seconds. It had now reached its end and Patrick was again standing in front of Amber with the gunman blocking off any chance they had of escape. He had left the hell in his mind to re-enter the inescapable hell that was reality.


	12. A Selfless Sacrifice

"Why are you doing this?" cried Amber, unable to keep the tears from falling.

"Like I said," the guy answered, locking his eyes on Patrick. "I've been sent on strict orders…and I won't fail him."

Like a ruling predator, his eyes were glued on Patrick as if he were all but doomed and defenseless prey. The teacher wasn't going anywhere and he knew it all too well. He'd seen that same look before on the night he'd struck down the guy's parents. And now their son was trapped and caged in a fate that would not be denied. It wouldn't matter if help were arriving right then. He had this guy right where he wanted him and wouldn't be leaving that school till he came to do what had been asked of him.

Amber tightened her grip on Patrick's hand, brought her other hand up to his face and told him in a choking voice, "We have to move! We can't just—"

"No," he whispered. By the tone in his voice, Amber knew instantly that Patrick had realized seconds ago how truly hopeless it all was. He'd known it the moment the guy had raised the gun on them. She hadn't wanted to accept what could happen but he knew it couldn't be ignored. There was no getting around what had to happen. "Amber, I…I can't."

"You can't let him!" she hollered, refusing to believe where Patrick's head had gone. She had to get through to him. She had to convince him there had to be some other way. She did all he could to plead with him, but the teacher's mind was already made up. There was no chance that she'd be able to change that.

Even when she tried breaking free of his grasp, she found he was holding her too firmly for that. Whether she wanted to or not, there wasn't any way he'd be letting her make her way any closer to this killer.

"Don't you dare try and move, Amber!" he insisted shakily but solemnly. She could hear in his voice that he was dangerously close to crying, and was fighting just to keep it together. In a much softer voice, he whispered to her sadly, "Just stay where you are, okay? Please?"

He turned to look back at her and the look he gave her made her want to crawl in a hole and die. She wanted to find some lonely hall and bury herself into it and never have to face the cruel, horrid world again. For so long, she had believed Earth had finally grown into a beautiful place where crime and fear were things of the past, but that clearly wasn't so. It had just been reborn today, and it made her wonder if Earth hadn't blossomed into a perfect world after all. Or was it transforming into a world that thrived on fear and despair? What she wanted so desperately was for this whole unbearable thing to end so she and Patrick could go on living their lives, embracing love and looking forward to the future.

Those hopes had long since been eliminated.

"Think of everyone else," Patrick uttered quietly. She could tell he was struggling hard to keep his voice steady, but it was a losing battle. His tear-filled eyes gave away how truly frightened he now was. "Think of all the students, the teachers. So many lives would be wasted. I can't let that happen, Amber."

"You can't do this," she argued, her voice wavering. "You can't just give yourself up like this, Patrick!"

There was a brief pause, and then he announced softly, "It's the only way."

"Then let me do it!" she shot back quickly. "Let me—"

" _No_!" Patrick told her firmly.

"You can't stop me from—"

"Amber please," he interrupted, still speaking in a whisper. Letting a few more tears trickle down his face, he asked her, "I'm begging you not to do that." There was no mistaking the sadness in his voice as he told her, "I could never live with myself if I let you do that. I couldn't live with myself if so many lives were lost."

He brought his face close to hers, pressing his forehead gently against hers.

"You'll be okay," he whispered, holding her close. "You have so many students that now look up to you, teachers that care about you. You'll have a whole family here at Chelsea High. You'll never be alone."

She gazed back into his eyes with a mournful, lost expression and uttered sadly, "You're my family."

Patrick pulled her in closer, wanting to cherish every possible remaining moment with her. He stroked her hair and after what felt like eternity, whispered with equal sadness, "I know...you're mine as well. It's why I have to do this. I can't let him do this to you…or anyone else."

Amber kept her head pressed against Patrick's, not wanting to separate herself from him for even a second.

"It's not Chelsea High without you," she snivelled. " _You're_ the reason I fell in love with it. You're the reason it felt like home to me. It's _you_. It's _always_ been you, Pat."

Patrick stared back at her with a saddened expression, and kissed her softly on the forehead. "I love you," he said quietly, wanting to remember what the simple joy of holding Amber in his arms felt like. "It's why I'm doing this. I have to keep you safe."

"So how's it feel then, teacher?" the guy asked, grinning. "To think _you'll_ soon be without a home?"

Patrick turned to face the man and with as much authority as he could gather, declared, "Chelsea High is my home."

That was when he refocused his attention to the gunman, but not before looking once more to Amber.

"Amber?" he said softly, his eyes again filling with tears. He let go of her hand and without having to speak even a single word, she knew what he was asking of her. With the clock of death now ticking, he wanted her out of harm's way completely. For that, she had to step out of Patrick's hold.

The thought of leaving his arms was so frightening, she found herself frozen in fear. She wished she could stay locked in his arms. She'd face the horror of this nightmare with him, if Patrick hadn't insisted that it be him that make the ultimate sacrifice.

"It's okay," he told her, though his voice was trembling.

Before pulling apart, she hugged him tightly and in that one moment, all the memories came rushing back to her in a speeding blur. She remembered the day she'd spent shadowing him, wondering if she'd ever become a great teacher like himself. She thought back to that day at Grand Blossom Park, the night the two had attended the school dance and got swept up in a sea of magic and above all, the night they'd shared their first official date…and their first kiss.

She then forced herself to pull away from him, though she felt like another part of her was dying as she did so. She didn't let her eyes leave his and without needing to see anything else, she knew the hands of the clock were now slowing. It wouldn't be long now. While the tears fell, she locked eyes with Patrick, trying hard to focus on nothing else but him.

But Patrick was just as focused on her. That was when he told her quietly, "Close your eyes, Amber."

"Oh, I think not," the guy snarled, pointing the gun at Amber.

"She doesn't need to see this!" Patrick shot back desperately.

"No…she _does_ ," the guy said with certainty. "The least she can do is have the courage to watch."

Patrick closed his eyes and sunk his head in defeat. He fought to clear his mind from all the thoughts that blurred his thinking, and focus on something joyful. He took his mind back to when he and Amber had shared so many laughs. How all those times felt like just yesterday. They were so close that he felt he could reach out and grab hold of them. To his own surprise, it was like he could see it all unfolding in his own head. All the colors swam before him and he once again watched their story re-tell itself, chapter by chapter.

That was when the guy shifted slightly. The gun was no longer focused on Amber – it was focused solely on Patrick. In spite of the tragic end that was now looming so dreadfully near, still the teacher kept his eyes closed.

" _NO!_ " screamed Amber, who now felt she was drowning in a sea of uncontrollable hysteria. She could hardly get the words out as she cried, "Please, don't!" In a grief-stricken, whimpering voice, she pleaded in distraught, "You can't do this!"

The guy smirked and shot back with ruthless indifference, "I can…and I will."

For Amber, she couldn't have been hit with any harsher of words. Hearing them, all she could do was shake her head vigorously in denial and go on imploring he not carry through with this. She could feel the desperation leaving her heart and creeping into her voice as she went on beseeching he leave them in peace. Between tears of pain and tremulous cries, she did all she could to change this guy's merciless, crazed way of thinking. It took all but a few seconds to realize her efforts were achieving nothing. What with the permanent sneer on the lunatic's face, the raised gun and body that was still as stone, it was like she was attempting to speak with a person of another language.

Even through the rapid deterioration of hope and distressing fear of the inevitable though...still she carried on begging for a change of heart.

But no amount of begging was going to stop the gunman from what he had set out to achieve. He had one thing and one thing only on his sick and twisted mind and that was to ensure that Patrick Mac was shot. Whoever it was that had sent him on this evil task was no doubt waiting to hear that he had achieved what had been asked of him.

Amber struggled against her own emotions and seeing the gun raised in position, screamed out in one last, desperate, futile plea, "Patrick… ** _DON'T!_** "

Though her voice sounded like rumbling thunder that had crept into his ears, Patrick didn't argue or say a word in return. He was working hard on staying focused on the many, pleasant thoughts that now filled his thinking. It pained him to hear the sheer anguish in her voice, but there was no escaping what had to be done. She had to be protected, simple as that.

Of all the images now in his mind, he let a smiling Amber Norm be the one last thing he'd see before the end was upon him. Like he'd seen so many times, he saw the chocolate brown in her eyes that he'd gotten lost in more than once. It saddened him to think that so much of Amber he would never have the chance to see. He'd never get the chance to watch her transform a blank page into a stunning picture with nothing but a pencil. She'd been drawing since she was little and he remembered her telling him she'd teach him to draw some time…but that would never happen. He also recalled her saying she also enjoyed singing, but with the hands of the clock of death starting to slow, he would never be able to hear the girl he loved sing even a single song.

It broke his heart at the realization that their future had been destroyed. But he quickly reminded himself that Amber would be protected. He silently told himself that through his sacrifice…she and the rest of Chelsea High would be spared.

One final glance at the window behind him, and the gunman watched as the approaching police cars appeared in the distance. Though they were well on their way, they would no way arrive in time to prevent what he had set out to accomplish. It made no difference how many officers showed up or how quickly they got there because despite their best efforts…there was no stopping what he'd set out to do.

As he'd mentioned previously, he'd been sent on strict orders.

And he wasn't about to fail.

"Time's run out," he uttered, and both corners of his lips curved upward to form a grin that could have sent chills up anyone's spines.

Patrick's eyes remained closed; still the image of Amber smiling hadn't winked out of his mind. He wouldn't let this one, single image slip out of his consciousness.

The only thing Amber remembered was still sobbing for Patrick to move. She knew too well what would unfold should he attempt to move but somewhere inside her, she went on wondering if there was the chance they might escape this pit of hell. She knew it was hopeless.

There was no escaping this.

With the gun raised and aimed directly at Patrick, the gunman shifted his finger just slightly so it was now resting firmly on the trigger and then…he pulled the trigger. It all happened so quickly that all Patrick recalled was a bullet screaming like fire into his chest. What filled the air was a sharp, piercing sound that ended as quickly as it began, but though it lasted for only a few fleeting seconds...it was painful eternity for Amber and an even longer lifetime for the man standing just a few feet away from her.

The man that had offered up himself to protect her and the rest of Chelsea High from meeting this same unfortunate fate.

The man she'd grown to love so fiercely.

Time slowed down.

For Amber, it was like time itself had stopped entirely. In the few seconds it took for her to register what had just happened, it occurred to her that a tragedy had just been born. The moment the gun had gone off, the sound had startled her so terribly, she wondered how she stayed standing on her feet.

"I-It hurts!" cried Patrick, more in surprise than pain.

For the teacher, it was hard to describe the feeling as the bullet tore through his chest. It could have felt like an explosive bomb that left him in pieces. All he knew was that it was such an intense, staggering feeling that words couldn't begin to explain. Like a burning wildfire, it spread through his entire body, working its way from his chest to radiate to his arms, legs and face. Even then, he still wasn't sure of how to go about describing it. Initially, it left him with a feeling of numbness but it wasn't long till that subsided and gave way to something much worse.

Excruciating pain.

But how could one describe excruciating pain?

The impact of the bullet sent Patrick sprawling onto his back and watching this, Amber feared the one thing she'd dreaded more than anything else was about to happen.

She was about to lose the teacher she'd fallen so hard for.

With tears still trickling down her cheeks, she feared what life would now be like without Patrick Mac.

" _ **PATRICK!!**_ "

Moving faster than she'd done in the longest time, she rushed to the fallen teacher's side, knowing that every second was now precious. She held on to the thought that there could still be hope for Patrick. No matter how bleak the scene now looked, she had to go on believing there was hope. But one look down at Patrick and it was like any ounce of hope was draining out of her.

Her world was about to crumble into a thousand pieces and worse, it seemed that nothing or anyone out there could prevent that from happening. Soon, she'd be all but a shattered vase and not one person would be able to put her broken pieces back together again; she'd forever be a broken person.

Dropping his gun as if it were no longer of importance to him, the gunman turned and slowly made his way down the empty hall. Behind him was a man clinging desperately onto life and beside him was the person that had just been forced to see, hear and watch the whole frightening scene unfold.

As he strode down the hall with that same blank, vacant expression, still he could hear it all clear as day – Patrick gasping for any bit of air he could offer his aching lungs, and Amber fighting to keep strong and hopeful, but realizing she was losing terribly.

A few seconds later and he'd vanish completely.

Amber felt her body break out in a series of trembles, knowing she was now in shock at what had just happened. But one look next to her and she saw the one thing that sent her emotions rushing back at her ten times harder. She didn't even hesitate to reach out, grab hold of the object and point it in the direction of the murderer who had now taken the lives of Patrick and his parents. Still her body was shaking, but that didn't prevent her from aiming the guy's own weapon back at him. The anger building up inside her was something she hadn't known existed inside her…until now.

That was when she felt a hand clamp down on her arm.

"Amber…don't," said Patrick weakly.

Feeling like the conflicting emotions was too much to handle, she let out a pained howl and tossed the gun down the hall, not wanting to see where it landed. She then turned her focus back to Patrick, wanting so badly to believe he might just make it through this.

"D-don't let him turn you into something y-you're not," he uttered softly. "That's not you."

She shook her head, trying to formulate an answer to that but came up empty. All she could focus on was the fact that Patrick was lying beside her mortally wounded.

Amber placed a trembling hand on Patrick's cheek and saw that his eyes were hardly open and were fluttering as if the pain of the bullet was trying to take him out of reality and into the world of the dead. She didn't even have to look to know that the gunman – the guy that had shot down her Patrick in cold blood – was gone. His work at Chelsea High was done. He'd accomplished what he'd set out to do and the one who had been left to suffer was Patrick Mac.

Amber knew the police and an ambulance would rush into the school any minute now to rush Patrick to the hospital, but she wasn't leaving his side, not for a second. There was no way she'd let him stay on that cold, hard floor without someone by his side. Neverwould she want him feeling alone or scared for even a second; she'd remain right by his side to let him know that he wasn't alone and that she was right there with him. What he needed more than anything right than was to know that Amber would be there for him. Despite what would happen – whether he'd live or slip out of the world – as long as he could feel his hands in hers and know that she was right by his side...then he could pass away peacefully knowing that Amber had been there with him.

That, and knowing that she and the rest of Chelsea High had been kept safe.

Around them, students and teachers were starting to gather to look down at the two in shock. Every one of their faces had gone pale as a ghost as if what they were seeing was more like that out of a nightmare. But as Amber had realized all too soon, this was no nightmare. Most were covering their mouths were their hands while whispering to one another in nothing but disbelief.

"M-Mr. Mac?" one of his students cried shakily.

"My god," a teacher whispered, their voice trailing off in shock.

Also present were Em and Jay, who stood not far from Amber, staring down at their fallen teacher with woeful eyes.

"Oh, Patrick," Em whispered to herself, lowering her head. She didn't need to hear or see all that had happened with the two teachers and the gunman, for she knew already what had driven Patrick to do what he had.

Love.

"He gave his life for her," said Jay numbly. "He…he didn't even think twice about it."

"I'm not surprised," Em answered softy, wiping the tears from her eyes. "That's what one does when in love. They give up everything for the person they love. No sacrifice is too great."

All Jay could do was nod in a daze. The two, along with all the other students that were gathered around them, kept their eyes on Amber as if their feet were glued to the ground and they could do nothing but stare sadly at their teacher's bleeding chest. The same could have so easily happened to them if they'd done what he had done which had been to not listen to Ms. Simmons and hide themselves in one of the classrooms. But Patrick had done what he'd done for one reason and one reason only and that was to protect the woman he loved. He'd known the second Ms. Simmon's voice had come over the P.A. system that getting her to safety was the only thing he had to make sure of, even if that meant putting his own life in danger.

The crowd of students and teachers wanted to help. They wanted to hear there was something they could do to turn this chilling situation around, but there was only one group that could provide Patrick with the help he so desperately needed and that was the medical team. The most they could do was stand there, let Patrick know they were there and as was so often the case in unfortunate events, hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

"P-Patrick?" Amber stammered, keeping his face cupped in her hands while caressing his cheek. She then proceeded to gently and carefully position his head onto her lap, where she returned her hands to his face. Cradling his head in her lap, all she wanted was to let the sorrow wash over her, for the pain it left her with was more than she'd ever known.

She glanced down to his chest and saw the blood was spreading quickly. Soon his entire shirt would be soaked with his blood and soon it would be spreading onto the floor. It was suddenly more important and crucial than ever that Patrick be taken to a hospital. Help might not have gotten there in time to prevent the shooting but there was still the slight chance that Patrick's life could be saved. But they had to hurry or else he'd come closer and closer to leaving reality...and entering the realm of death.

She could tell he was fighting back against the pain overtaking him. His face was knotted in an expression that displayed how much he was hurting.

"Come on, Patrick," she sobbed, hoping he'd again hear her voice. She had to let him know that he wasn't alone.

When at last his eyelashes fluttered open, his clouded eyes met hers and seeing her kneeling beside him, he croaked out tiredly, "Amber?"

"Patrick!" she cried, the relief washing over her. She had to keep herself from breaking out in constant choking sounds. "I'm right here…everyone's here, Pat. All the teachers, all the students…we're here with you."

He took a deep breath, and winced in pain as he whispered, "I-It _hurts_."

Amber placed one of her quaking hands gently on his head and ran her fingers through his long strands of brown hair as she told him hastily, "Help's coming Patrick. T-they're already here. They're gonna f-fix you up and—"

"I-I don't think I can…I don't know if I can keep breathing like this, for much longer," he rasped weakly, shutting his eyes tightly and wincing yet again in pain. Breathing was becoming more difficult with each passing second, and he feared his lungs wouldn't be able to withstand much more of it. Letting the tears that had formed in his eyes slide down his cheeks and onto the hard floor, he told her faintly, "It hurts so much."

Patrick then clasped her hand and held it in his. He couldn't grip her hand very tightly but that didn't stop him from putting his hand into hers, and gripping it as tightly as he could. No matter how weak and fatigued his body felt right then, if this essentially was the end, then nothing would stop him from holding Amber Norm's hand one last time.

"Amber, i-if I don't make it—"

"Don't say that!" she argued. The idea of losing Patrick was too horrifying to even consider. She couldn't lose him; she needed him in her life. He was the one person she'd learned to trust, the one person she'd grown to love and admire. It was because of Patrick that she had so quickly fallen in love with Chelsea High. "You're not going to die, Patrick. T-they're gonna get you better and—"

"But if I—"

"No! They're gonna help you!" She swallowed hard, forcing a large, uncomfortable lump down her throat that felt more like sandpaper than anything else. "You're gonna be okay."

"But...but if I don't...make it," he wheezed and still breathing heavily, he then gave her hand as hard a squeeze as he could and told her, "I want you to know…I _love_ you. I didn't know what love was like till I met you. You showed me what love was, and I want you to know I loved every second we spent together."

Tears trickled down her face as she stared into the bright, brown eyes that had once been filled with such joy and life but were now cloudy and unfocused. What she feared was that the life was draining slowly out of them, as if they knew they wouldn't remain open for much longer. He was staring right back into hers, but she could tell that he was struggling just to keep them open, as if all they wanted was to close on him and stay closed forever.

"I…I love you too, Pat," she struggled to say, fearing this might very well be the last time she'd ever speak to him.

Patrick broke out in a small, sad smile, and whispered to her, "I'll always be your Pat."

She nodded while wiping her eyes.

For a moment, neither knew quite what to say. For a few seconds, an eerie silence settled over all those who had gathered, and especially over Patrick and Amber.

That was when Patrick remembered something.

"Earnest," he uttered softly. "If I don't make it, I'll have to find someone to—"

"I can take care of her," Amber said quickly.

"Thank you," he whispered so quietly that Amber hardly heard it. He let out a painful cough, and then went on, "Thank you for everything. I've had more fun with you than I've had in a long time. Whatever happens, Amber…I'll never forget you. You'll always be my—" but then his voice went silent.

"P-Patrick?" she cried, her panic rising. When he didn't immediately respond and she saw his eyes slowly closing, she screamed out, " _Patrick!_ "

She immediately brought her hands to his face and could have sworn she felt the warmth leaving his face. But with the panic rising inside her, she knew he couldn't have left them yet…could he? Back and forth she went from his neck while searching for a pulse, to his heart where she felt desperately for signs that he was still alive but her head was throbbing so badly that it was too hard to confirm whether he was still in fact breathing. Or had the absolute worst thing already happened? Had the teacher she'd grown to care so deeply for slipped out of the world and by doing so...had left her forever? With the harrowing pain she felt both in her head and in her heart, she couldn't even tell whether he was alive or dead but all she knew was that she didn't want to live life without Patrick Mac.

"P-Patrick, _please_!" she hollered, fearing it was already too late for the fallen teacher. "Just hang in there."

Just then, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps of the paramedics, as they came rushing toward them.

"I-I can't feel a pulse!" she cried out shakily. "I checked his neck, but I can't feel it. His heart, I…I can't tell if it's beating!" Amber hardly had time to observe what the trained professionals were doing to him before she saw Patrick gingerly but promptly being placed onto a stretcher. It didn't take them long to get to work on completing an initial examination on Patrick's vitals.

"It's there," one of the paramedics assured her. "It's faint…but it's there."

"Will he make it?" she asked fretfully, unable to take her eyes off Patrick.

"There's no way of telling for sure," the second paramedic told her. "There's still too many factors to consider, so as of right now, we just don't know."

"The doctors will do what they can," the first paramedic said, returning her attention back to the man now on the stretcher. "I can promise you that."

Amber's only response was to nod, and wipe her eyes again.

And with that, the paramedics refocused their attention on Patrick while wheeling the stretcher down the hallway. As the team reached the end of the hall and vanished, the hundreds of students went on staring in stunned silence. Still it hadn't hit them what had just taken place at Chelsea High.

"He looks bad," said Shana nervously, turning to Em. "You think the doctors can save him?"

Em thought for a moment, then turned and locked eyes with Jay briefly. It was like the two were exchanging secret words that no one else could hear.

"I don't know," said Em honestly. "But he's a fighter. That's one thing I can say about Mr. Mac. He won't go down without a fight."

"So he saved her," Shana went on, sounding numb and surprised at Patrick's selfless act.

"He saved us all," Em corrected. "That guy could have killed every one of us…but he didn't. All because of Mr. Mac."

Shana wiped tears from her eyes and looked to Em and Jay sadly. "It just won't be the same without him…Chelsea High."

"No, it won't," Em agreed, dropping her gaze the floor. "But don't lose hope. Our teacher's a fighter. He could still get through this."

The rest of the day dragged by unbearably slow for both the teachers and students. Classes had been cancelled for the remainder of the day and just about everyone spent their time wandering around in disbelief. Hardly anyone knew what to say, and when one did try to sound hopeful, it occurred to them that there was every possibility that they might never again see the guy who had undoubtedly been Chelsea High's most beloved teacher. They knew what it would come down to was Patrick's body's ability to hold on. But with how badly he'd appeared at the school, no doubt he'd been critically injured. Would those at the hospital be able to perform what they hoped would be a miraculous procedure that would save his life?

No one knew. At that point, only time would tell.

As for Amber, she wasn't at the school long till it struck her that she simply couldn't stay there. Staring around at the halls, classrooms and dozens of people only reminded her of Patrick, and it just about suffocated her. She was relieved that this killer had been captured and would no longer be able to wreck havoc and despair upon innocent people. But always at the back of her mind was whether or not Patrick would make it through the night.

So instead, she left the school and decided to leave the underground complex entirely. With her mind in so many places, all she wanted was to go to a place where she could try and clear her thoughts. She knew that was impossible, but she couldn't bear to stay at the school a second longer.

When she reached the surface above, instantly she was startled by the sound of heavy rain and the sight of dark, ominous clouds. She blinked in confusion, but made her way up onto the familiar grassy plains of Manhattan, the grass beneath her drenched from the relentless rain. She made her way over to a large Oak tree, where she pressed her head against the trunk, taking a moment to try and collect her racing thoughts. Above her, the heavy rain continued pounding the ground and judging by how thickly it fell, no doubt it would go on raining for hours.

How long she sat there in the wet grass staring up at the darkened sky, she didn't know. She could have sat there for hours, what with how shaken she now was. Gazing up at the shadowy sky though, she swore it was like the sky itself had broken out crying. It was like the guardians of the skies had been saddened too by what had unfolded beneath them, and were unable to keep from shedding tears with her.

All she kept thinking was: it should have been me. She was trapped in her own mind, as it went on repeating those same words, over and over again. If the worst happened, then she'd always go on blaming herself, telling herself she should have argued against him and insisted he save himself.

But he never would have allowed that. She could have went on arguing with him for hours and still he'd never let her change his thinking.

He had set out to save the woman he loved and those of Chelsea High…and that was exactly what he'd done.

For the time she sat there beneath that giant tree fighting her ever-growing fears, what she didn't know was that she wasn't alone. Perched up on the highest branch of the tree was a large black raven, its eyes watching her intently. She didn't know it, but this giant bird had been there for well over an hour, studying her and watching as she fell victim to her own emotions.

Finally, when it was satisfied with what it had witnessed, it opened its wings and took to the stormy sky. As it shot off into the distance, it was like the sight and sound of the growing storm amused it, for its eyes seemed to gleam even brighter. Just earlier that day, it had had the pleasure of watching as its latest plot unfolded beautifully. He had sent that man on a mission and now reflecting back on it all, there was no doubting that he had indeed succeeded.

And so it continues, thought the raven as it vanished out of sight completely.


	13. A Demon in the Night

While the tragedy that had crept up and seized hold of Chelsea High had happened only an hour ago, already it felt like days had passed. For the dazed teachers and students, no longer did the school feel like the same place anymore. Prior to the shocking event, the school had felt safe and peaceful; not once had any of them feared that some dark, nightmarish incident would take hold of them all. Since the school had first been opened, it had been free from violent threats but on that day, terror had introduced itself by striking down one of the school's greatest teachers – Patrick Mac.

As the students aimlessly wandered through the various halls, it was near impossible to focus on anything else. The only image still lingering so freshly in their shaken minds was that of Mr. Mac's broken body being lifted into the back of the ambulance. They just simply couldn't wrap their heads around the fact that one of their teachers had been shot down in cold blood. Such a frightening scene hadn't yet been witnessed at the school or anywhere else in the area, and it was difficult accepting what had just taken place.

The eeriness of it all grew worse when they'd pass by the classroom that had belonged to Patrick. For his students, it made them wonder if they'd ever again see their amazing teacher, a guy so many had looked up to and admired. Or would the last image they saw of their favourite teacher be the paramedic crew lifting his bloodied body into the back of an ambulance? They hated to think that may be the case but the longer they went on dwelling on it…the more they felt their fears just might be true.

The most hopeful of the group was Em, followed by Jay. When one's spirits were down and fears were spreading, Em stepped in to remind them all that Mr. Mac was a fighter. She assured them all that however this would all turn out, they mustn't lose hope. Holding on to hope might not have been easy but time and again she fought to keep their hopes from dwindling away.

"Mr. Mac always believed in us," she told them thoughtfully. "He believed we could achieve anything, and that we were more capable of what we often thought. He told us not to assume the impossible couldn't be made possible. Well…we can't give up on him now. So long as he's in that hospital fighting, than we'll all be fighting with him."

* * *

Amber, meanwhile, was still sitting beneath the lone Oak tree with the downpour seeming to only grow in intensity. While the others remained at the school, she'd been unable to escape the constantly invading visions of the gunman and Patrick's body crumpling to the ground as the bullet tore through his chest. Like a never-ending movie, the haunting images emerged over and over, unremittingly. As there was no chance of fleeing what kept invading her mind, she left Chelsea High and made her way up to the surface.

Where she'd been headed, it didn't even matter. With Patrick no longer there, somehow all those familiar places she'd once been now didn't speak to her the same way. What now took hold of her and filled her heart was an unmistakable sense of…emptiness. Like a foreign virus that latched itself onto her aching heart, it left her fearing that all good thoughts had been completely erased. Now building inside of her was an empty, inescapable hole. It had started forming the moment Patrick placed himself in the path of the monster and by doing so, saved the lives of herself and all those at Chelsea High.

It made no difference how much she pleaded that it be she instead of him.

There wasn't a chance in the world he would have let that happen and for the short time she'd known him, it came as no surprise to her. She'd learned a lot about Patrick in the time she'd so far spent with him. He was hard working, an intellectual, had a great passion for history, was always quick to jump in and help others where he could. Above all, he was the kind of friend she felt so lucky to have had enter her life.

Only recently had it dawned on her that so much of him she had yet to uncover.

Today, she was shown a side of him that only further proved how much more there was to him.

He wasn't just an excellent teacher and skilled librarian. He wasn't only intelligent and dedicated to his work. Nor was he just friendly.

No, today she'd learned how he was so much more than that.

He was courageous. On top of that, he was incredibly selfless.

All these realizations rushed through her pounding head as she sat with her back against the towering tree, staring down at the long blades of grass. With how clouded her thinking had become, she could have sat under that tree for hours without realizing how frigid the drops of rain felt against her skin. But despite how heavily the rain fell, in a way, she almost wanted to feel every drop that drenched her body.

It wasn't till she lifted her head and gazed up at the gloomy sky that one overriding fear became all too frighteningly clear.

There was every possibility that Patrick Mac might soon be dead. And if that became true, then she'd have no choice but to accept that her future would no longer include him. As painful as it was to imagine, she'd be forced to say goodbye.

But the thought of saying goodbye to a man that had so quickly become the greatest friend she'd ever recalled having just about crushed her.

In the years growing up, she'd been no stranger to fear and loneliness. But never had she encountered it to the point where she feared it might very well be the death of her.

* * *

When the paramedic crew had first brought Patrick to the Bernick Hospital, the team acted swiftly and promptly. With the man's undoubtedly critical condition, it was essential that time not be wasted, for every second could mean the difference between life and death. And after the initial assessment had been completed on their patient, it quickly occurred to them how dangerously close he was to slipping away. If he wasn't provided with the necessary care as quickly as possible, they felt certain his struggling heart would give out completely.

But it was their job to do all they could to manage them and provide what care they could till they were in the hands of the hospital team.

From there, it would all come down to how the patient responded to treatment.

From their evaluation of their latest patient, no one could say for certain what would happen.

"From what we've gathered," one of the surgeons announced while reviewing the clipboard of information. "It doesn't seem likely his body will be able to withstand the surgical procedure he requires. However, in cases like this, we weigh the positives and the negatives and ultimately decide what leaves the patient with the greatest chance for survival."

"So, you don't think he'll survive?" asked a nurse, watching their patient carefully.

The surgeon was silent only for a moment, and then he too turned his attention to the patient in the bed. Since his arrival, the medical team had been busily preparing him for surgery and working together to do all they could to help save their latest patient. He was now hooked up to intravenous fluids, and was receiving a steady supply of oxygen that filled his lungs. A digital monitor displayed his heart rate, blood pressure and breathing patterns and would instantly alert the team should his condition begin worsening.

Finally, the surgeon answered, "I really don't know. I'd like to think he'll make it through the surgery but based on the severity of his condition, I just can't see his body having the strength to withstand such an invasive procedure. Yet when I weigh the pros and cons, providing him with this surgery at least gives him a chance."

No further words were needed. The surgeons and nurses understood the risks of both proceeding with the surgery, and choosing not to intervene with invasive procedures. But with the critical state their patient was in, there was no choice but to prepare him for surgery. To not do so would have meant the man would have no fighting chance at survival.

"Prepare him," the surgeon instructed. "We'll then begin the procedure immediately."

In the hours that passed, the surgical team worked diligently within the operating room, each fearing how their patient might respond to the next phase of treatment. While the vital signs remained fairly consistent throughout, there were times when they'd catch signs of a dropping heart rate. It crossed each of their minds that perhaps the man's body just wasn't coping well with the surgery, but still he appeared to be hanging on. The question of how long he could hang on lingered in the air, but much to their surprise and relief, there was still some fight left in him.

It wasn't till the operation had come to an end that a sense of genuine doubt crept into the minds of the surgical team. Yes, their patient had survived the invasive procedure and that in itself was incredible, but now the final battle would begin. Would Patrick's injuries ultimately prove too much for him?

"We've done all we can for him," the surgeon concluded. "What happens from here will be up to him."

The nurses silently looked back into the room to see their patient lying there with his eyes closed, the oxygen mask still covering his face. The surgeon's words rang all too true; the final battle would indeed be left up to the patient, and if his body was able to re-find the strength it once had. But no words were needed, for they all felt quite sure what they would find the following morning when they returned to this very room.

When the sun next rose, they felt sure the bed would no longer be occupied.

Should Patrick quietly slip away during the night, no doubt the bed would be once more filled the following day with a new patient.

In such situations, all hoped for the best…but were preparing for the worst.

After one last silent glance into the room, the nurses left and made their way down the hall, each hoping their patient might just make it through the night.

* * *

While Patrick spent the evening sleeping, the rest of Bernick Hospital remained active and awake. Surgeons, doctors, nurses and other medical staff made their way throughout the vast building carrying out a number of duties for the many patients that had been brought to them earlier that day. Other than monitoring their overall condition and keeping a close watch over them, the level of activity from hours ago had since calmed. The staff were each busy with their own individual schedules.

What they weren't aware of was that someone had secretly made their way into Patrick Mac's room. Their feet seemed to make no noise as they crept soundlessly into the room and without having to look, they knew not a soul had caught sight of their presence.

The person entering his room looked no different than the many other nurses employed at the hospital. He wore light green scrubs, had a head of thick blond hair, but the one thing that stood out about this mysterious intruder…were his eyes. For any who would have looked closely enough, they would have seen they were such a bright shade of blue and sparked with a fierce, wicked intensity. They were a set of eyes that wouldn't be seen in anyone else; such eyes could only be seen in one particular individual.

On that night, the stranger had once more taken form of a character of his own creation. Changing his appearance was just one of the many ways he fooled and manipulated so many people.

Tonight, he was visiting the Bernick Hospital not as himself, but as a nurse that didn't belong there.

As he strolled into the room, he let his eyes fall upon the sleeping man in the bed who was completely oblivious to the unwelcome visitor. Flashing across the monitor were his vital signs, which at the moment, were gradually dwindling. Having been asleep for the past few hours, the man had no idea who now stood just inches from the bed, staring down at him with eyes that blazed like dancing fire.

The stranger had no fear of them being interrupted. As the doctors and nurses were now up on the higher floors, the chances of them rushing back downstairs were rather slim. Besides, the man's vitals hadn't yet dropped hopelessly slow. There was still the chance he might make it through the night.

"Hello, Teacher," said the nurse, staring down at the man with an amused expression. "I must say, it's got to be strange being so far from Chelsea High. Then again, you probably haven't a clue as to where you are right now."

The nurse chuckled, leaned in closer to the sleeping man and went on, "All this time watching you and your kind, and still there's so much I have yet to uncover. I must admit, your actions surprised me today. Through all your fears, you stood tall and showed me a kind of courage I hadn't expected…from you especially. For that, I applaud you."

Glancing casually back at the monitor, the nurse noticed the vitals continuing to drop, bit by bit. All too quickly he returned his focus to the sleeping patient who still hadn't a clue as to who had decided to drop in and pay him a visit.

"I'll give you this much, Teacher. There's more to you than even you know yourself. Up till now, I dismissed you as being nothing more than a poor, neurotic intellectual who liked living the perfect, comfortable life, and who cowered at the first sign of danger. After watching what you demonstrated today, well…it makes me wonder what's to come in the ultimate war, when finally that time arrives. While you've been going about your life, always oblivious to the fact that I've been watching all of you, I _have_ been what you might call _studying_ you and your kind."

His eyes then flashed an even brighter shade of blue as he told him, "I will confess, after having time to observe you and the others, I felt certain you'd be the one to strike me as the most, how do I put it… _worthless_." The nurse laughed and uttered, "It seems I'll have to rethink my previous assumptions. Perhaps you have proven to be more than just a teacher and librarian. Perhaps you'll prove not as useless as I let myself so quickly presume. Then again, the true battle has yet to begin. Once the dominos start falling, who knows what'll become of you, Teacher? Will you rise to the challenge…or cower in the shadows?"

The nurse paused briefly, averting his gaze to the open doorway.

"There's no question what you did was out of love," he declared, as if now speaking solely to himself. "The thought of all those students and teachers losing their lives, well, that was simply too horrid a concept for you to accept. Like you said, you couldn't have lived with yourself had you not faced my gunman alone. And we can't forget about the other teacher you've grown so fond of, ah, yes…Amber. So lost she must be without you…such a shame. As for you, anyone can see what's happened here, my friend. It's oh so obvious. So long now you've gone without getting a taste of what love is like and now that you've tasted it—" and here the guy snickered before continuing, "You simply can't let go. It pulled you in. Hook, line, sinker."

As for Patrick, he was still sleeping so soundly that it never would have crossed his mind that a stranger was now standing in his room. Never could he have guessed that someone out there knew so much about him, things he himself had yet to become aware of.

"Enjoy the ride while it lasts, Teacher," the nurse told him, his voice taking on a dark, ominous tone. "Cherish what time you have with her because I assure you this love you think has grown between you just will not last. It can't. I know you see yourself as just like the rest, but how mistaken you are. Of course, that won't stop you from letting love take hold of you and lead you to believe you'll both go on living life in some happily-ever-after. How misguided and hopeless you are."

The nurse then slowly sauntered over to the open doorway, but not without keeping his steely gaze on the man in the bed.

"I wonder," said the nurse, the arrogance palpable in his voice. "What Amber will think of you once you're thrust into the ultimate war? How glowingly will she think of you when she sees the true coward within? How strongly will she feel about you once she sees you haven't a chance at defeating me in the inevitable fight?"

The guy's gaze wandered to the empty hall; there wasn't a sound to be heard or person to be seen. All the activity had been taken to the upper levels of the hospital.

"So many questions," said the nurse, throwing the guy a superior smirk. "Yet only I hold the answers. Did I really order that gunman to set off those bombs had you failed to comply with his demands? Did I really care to blow that school and its people to ashes? Of course not. Surely I could have had that guy kill you all but that would have been so easy. No, it's far more interesting to create a little chaos and to watch as the fears of so many feed it and let it grow. And then we have you. Why in the world would I want you, the geeky, neurotic teacher to stick around when things get ugly? Like I said, only I know the answers but no fear…my plans will make themselves known, as they always do. And what of you? Who is it that you truly are? Where are you from? What is your purpose? In time that'll all become clear. For now though…return to this silly life of yours, as it won't be around much longer."

Before leaving, the nurse had all but one last thing to say.

"It's been interesting, I'll say that," he concluded, reflecting on all that had happened that day. "I look forward to seeing what's next. So keep sleeping, Teacher. Rest up and get back to your life, because our next meeting will come sooner than you think. Who knows? I might just have to mix things up a little. I'm sure I could push some buttons with that little girlfriend of yours."

With that, the disguised nurse laughed under his breath and stepped out the door and into the silent hallway.

"Farewell for now…Patrick," he said to himself, his eyes once more flashing an even brighter shade of blue. _And don't make the mistake of thinking what happened today will be the end of it. The raven is never truly finished with its work._


	14. Amber and Earnest

Throughout the night, Patrick's vitals went back and forth, dropping drastically one moment while then slightly increasing the next. It was an ongoing battle his body hadn't yet given up fighting and more than once, a nurse dropped by to examine his status. Whether it was adjusting his intake of oxygen or intravenous fluid or closely monitoring the vitals, the nurses did all they could to keep their fighting patient alive.

But as the hours passed and the morning sun would soon be rising, they feared they'd return to see him forever trapped in a sleep from which there would be no waking from.

While out in the hall, one of the nurses shook her head. "It doesn't look good," she uttered quietly. "With how much his vitals have been dropping, I just can't see him pulling through."

"I know," the other nurse agreed. She sighed and added, "It's unfortunate."

"He saved so many people," the first nurse commented. "Back at Chelsea High. A gunman threatened to bomb down the school, but he stepped in and—"

"And paid the price," the second nurse softly interrupted.

The first nurse – Josie – nodded in silence.

"It's not right," Josie went on, the two now striding down the hall. "A person who shows that kind of courage shouldn't be left to go through this."

Lisa – the second nurse – followed Josie farther down the long corridor, turned right, and the two made their way towards the next section of occupied beds.

"He was a teacher there, wasn't he?"

"A librarian too," said Josie. "From what I've been told, he was one of the school's greatest teachers. He was like family. The students loved him, and the teachers couldn't have said enough good things about him."

"What a shame," said Lisa sadly.

"Cindy was the first one to tell me," said Josie, reflecting back on the startling text she'd received from her daughter. "She told me the school was on lockdown, a gunman was in the school, and the last thing she told me was…he'd been shot."

"He was Cindy's teacher?" asked Lisa, her voice hardly audible.

"Yeah," said Josie, the reality of the tragic incident making her feel suddenly weary. "She said she wasn't one to care much for history and whatnot, but said something about the way Mr. Mac did things made it look somehow…more interesting. He was able to help my daughter take more pride in her studies, and encouraged her and the others to not be scared to try. He really was a great teacher."

"Well…let's hope for a miracle," said Lisa.

Josie's response was to nod, and the two then returned their focus to caring for the rest of the hospital's patients.

* * *

While Patrick remained at the Bernick Hospital, Amber had made her way back down to the underground complexes of Chelsea. As she walked dazedly past all the familiar shops, supermarkets and restaurants, it hadn't even struck her that it was nearly three in the morning. There wasn't a single person other than herself that was up at that hour of the night, not so far as she could see, anyway. It crossed her mind that she likely wouldn't have noticed anyone strolling by, as she was still dwelling too heavily on the terrors from earlier that day. She didn't even care that she was soaked head to toe and shivering from the cold of the torrential downpour from up above. All she focused on was forcing herself to make her way past all these familiar places to the central elevator.

Though her body felt weary and numb, there wasn't a part of her that felt truly tired. Where so many others were fast sleep in the comfort of their beds after a long day of work, her mind was still a million miles away. It was hard to pull herself out of the violent sea of despair that had swallowed her up so effortlessly.

All she could do now was will her aching feet to keep moving. But as she kept moving, the sound of her shoes treading over the tiled floor was sounded not unlike a booming thunderclap.

When at last she finally reached her destination, she felt such an abrupt, overwhelming rush of fear rising inside her. She was standing directly in front of the door that led to Patrick's apartment. Prior to being transported to the hospital by the paramedics, Patrick had given her the key to his home after she'd assured him she'd take care of his cat Earnest, should anything happen to him. The fact that his blurred thoughts still went straight to Earnest – all while struggling to keep his wounded body from perishing – just about broke her heart. Even through all his pain and fear, still he made sure his cat was looked after should he not make it.

Opening the door and stepping tentatively inside, she wasn't prepared for the weight of pain of entering his home with Patrick not there. It was a strange and unsettling feeling of finding herself in the very place where the two had confessed their feelings for each other. Standing there in the entryway – alone and without him there to greet her – felt eerily disconcerting. When she'd last been here, she recalled the first thing she'd heard was the sound of Patrick's friendly voice inviting her inside. It was the comforting voice that had weaved itself into her life, but now that voice just couldn't be heard.

There was nothing now but lonely, unnatural, uncomfortable silence.

She stood there for close to a minute, staring with unblinking eyes at the home that belonged to a man that had so selflessly given up his life. As all the chilling images flashed through her reeling mind, such a burst of anger swept over her. Standing there taking in the sight of his home that he may never step foot in again made her want to scream.

It made her want to cry.

It made her wish there was some way to reverse what had so cruelly been done.

She wished more than anything that she might close her eyes, re-open them and see him walking towards her with that infections smile. It was a smile that had become part of her everyday life and time and again, it always felt like she were seeing his smile for the very first time. But no matter how badly her aching heart longed to see that, nothing could turn back the hands of time. It was irreversible what had taken place.

And having not yet heard anything regarding his condition caused her to jump to the absolute worst possibility.

Would the news soon reach her that Patrick had succumbed to his life-threatening injuries?

Would she soon have to accept that he might very well be dead?

She didn't have time to dwell on the terrifying probability, for she then felt an unexpected rubbing against her leg. She started in surprise, but glanced down to quickly see a small, orange kitten nuzzling its body against her. Since Patrick had first brought her home, she'd grown bit by bit, but she was still the small, bundle of fur he'd come home to day after day.

Amber watched the cat in a daze, trying to convince herself that he'd step through the door any minute now. She'd wake up from this awful nightmare, slip back into reality and all would be as it once was. The tragedy would cease to exist. But right then, whether it was real or a tormenting dream, all she could bring herself to focus on was herself and Patrick's cat, Earnest. As with every other day, little Earnest looked forward to greeting her beloved owner, but hours had passed since the last time she'd seen him. Normally, he was home by supper time and for the rest of the night, she'd take up her usual place at the foot of his bed, curled up and purring contently.

It was now past three in the morning.

She hadn't seen Patrick since early that morning when he'd left for work.

Something wasn't right. She'd sensed that when the day turned into night and still her owner had yet to come home. So quiet and lonely the apartment had become since his absence, and that weight of loneliness was only deepening.

Amber opened her mouth to speak, but all that escaped her was a choking sound. She fought back the tears, but let them fall as she whispered shakily, "I-I'm sorry, Earnest. I…I just don't know."

The cat lifted its head and stared up at her, and Amber swore it was like she could sense the growing fear that lingered in the air. It was like in some strange, yet unmistakable way, she could read the fear and pain in her eyes. Without a sound, she nuzzled herself once more against Amber's leg, as if trying to provide whatever small ounce of comfort and company she could in this time of angst.

Amber leaned down, and stroked the cat's head, feeling a large knot forming in her chest. That knot only grew larger when she slowly and numbly made her way further into the apartment, her eyes wanting so badly to stay closed. No matter where she looked – whether it was the kitchen, living room or bedroom – all she kept hoping was to hear the sound of the door opening behind her, and his approaching footsteps.

But the sound never came.

When she entered the kitchen, she found the cabinet that held Earnest's supply of food. There, she placed the two fish-patterned bowls on the floor, filling one with food and the other with fresh water. So often, the cat would have already been right by the dishes, excitedly waiting till the bowl had been filled with her favourite meal.

But when Amber turned and looked behind her, she noticed the cat wasn't at the dishes at all. Instead, she was sitting upright in front of the closed door, her tail curled around her front paws. It was like the bowl of food just wasn't important right then. From what Amber could see, the cat's mind was clearly focused on something else and she felt certain she knew what that was.

She knew because she felt it just as strongly.

They missed Patrick.

Without a word, she got up and walked slowly over to the living room while keeping her eyes glued solely to the carpet. She felt afraid that the more she let her eyes wander and take in the apartment, the harder it would be to accept that he might never again come home. Settling down onto the couch, she fought to keep from looking around but it was like her eyes had a mind of their own. In spite of the pain of fixing her eyes on anything other than the floor, some part of her heart needed to hold on to what reminded her of Patrick. Should the sun rise on the following day with him no longer in her life – somewhere deep inside her – she didn't want to forget even a single thing about him.

She wanted to remember him.

Letting her gaze fall upon the wall opposite her, there she saw a white mantle, but that in itself wasn't what caught her attention. It was what she saw resting on top of the mantle that made her throat seem to swell up.

It was a special collection of framed photos. One displayed Patrick wearing his black-and-blue gown and cap the day of his graduation from university. It was the incredible day that celebrated his well-earned achievements as he then looked ahead to what the future would hold for him.

Another photo showed a tiny Earnest staring curiously at the camera with her bright, emerald eyes. After the death of his parents, Earnest had played a significant part in helping Patrick to heal and cope with the tragedy of losing his mother and father. Prior to adopting her, Patrick had been living alone with no one for company, but that quickly changed when he brought home the little kitten.

It was when she examined the photo in the center that she felt her eyes well up in inevitable tears. It was a picture of Patrick and his parents. Staring at the photo of the smiling family, she wondered how often Patrick himself had looked upon this very picture, reflecting back on what life had been like while his parents had still been alive.

Staring at this photo only made her heart sink further into a state of such anger, sorrow, confusion and bleakness.

 _Why_ did all of this have to happen to Patrick? Why did such terrible tragedy have to strike down on a man who'd done nothing wrong?

 _Why_ did his parents have to be shot down in cold blood?

 _Why_ did he then have to meet the same cruel, unfortunate fate as his parents?

 _Why_ did a man as great as Patrick have to go through such suffering?

Those and a million more questions sprang to mind as she sat there with her arms wrapped around her legs. She soon felt her body starting to shiver, but she knew it wasn't from having been out in the pouring rain for so long. The true shock of what had taken place back at the school was now starting to sink in, and it couldn't have hit her any harder. All the horror that had unfolded just a few hours before was now coming back to her like a demonic, unforgiving wave.

The sight of Patrick stepping in front of her to act as a protective shield against the terror.

His crumpled body collapsing to the floor.

The tears sliding down his face as he told her he loved her.

The pained, cloudy look in his eyes as he gazed up at her while she cradled his head in her lap.

The whole nightmare flashed through her mind in a few, startling seconds.

It was all but impossible to keep the horrid incident from replaying itself, over and over.

And it was killing her.

Suddenly, she felt the very apartment starting to close in on her, but she knew the truth. Every emotion was now coming into play, and doing its best to leave her shaken and like a shattered vase. Everything – the distressing images, the haunting sound of Patrick crying out in pain, the feeling of his head resting in her lap as he struggled to hold on – was like spears in her heart. She sat there, hugging her knees to her chest while surrendering to the pain that washed over her. She fought to keep it together but all her life, she'd never been good at controlling her emotions. Keeping them tame and under control just wasn't something she'd ever been able to do. Growing up, she hadn't been able to turn to her parents or brothers, and good friends had been difficult to find, so she battled her emotions in silence.

It wasn't till she'd met Patrick that she understood what it was like to have a true friend. A friend that listened, cared, offered strength and company, and so many things she hadn't known in her younger years.

Tonight, she didn't even try to keep the storm of emotions boggled up; it all came erupting out of her in a way she wouldn't have expected. Like a scorching inferno that brought death to a forest, it burned and swelled inside her till she felt her sides starting to ache. But it didn't stop there. Like wildfire, it spread to her heart, head and through every inch of her body. If anyone would have been wandering by out in the halls, they would have undoubtedly heard the sound of her racking sobs.

While no one out in the halls overheard her failed efforts to suppress her emotions, she did feel the familiar nuzzling of a soft head against her leg. She hadn't even noticed that Earnest had jumped up onto the couch and was now fixing its unblinking eyes on her. Like when she'd been sitting in front of the door, there wasn't a doubt in Amber's mind that the cat was once more looking up at her with that same, unwavering expression.

Sadness.

The cat looked up only briefly at Amber's teary eyes before settling onto her lap, finally meowing uncharacteristically quietly. Normally, she was a cat that wasn't shy on meowing and chirping loudly to get one's attention. But as she focused her attention on Amber's face, she hardly made a sound, unlike so often when she'd purr loudly and make herself known. Still, she hadn't even taken a bite out of the bowl of food that had been set out for her.

She was still wondering why Patrick hadn't yet come home to her.

Amber didn't hesitate to scoop up the cat in her arms, burying her face into its soft, orange fur while letting the tears slip out of eyes. With her eyes shut tight, she focused only on Earnest, her thoughts now returning to Patrick more strongly than ever. But she and the cat did what they could to comfort the other, as each couldn't help but let their mind flash forward to a future without Patrick Mac.

"I don't know, Earnest," whispered Amber, now hardly recognizing her own voice. "I don't know what'll happen. He…he might—" but the words got all tangled up. So badly she wanted to sound positive, but that nagging, dreadful voice in her head kept voicing the worst.

_He's already dead. He's not coming home to us. He's…gone._

But she couldn't believe it to be true. She wouldn't. Patrick Mac – teacher and librarian of Chelsea High – couldn't be dead. No…he just couldn't.

Fighting through the grief seemed all but impossible, but then she remembered something.

A lullaby.

Visions of a young girl no older than six flashed through her mind. She was singing, and the words seemed to be coming back to her like a long-lost friend.

In spite of the uncomfortable knot in her throat, she went on patting Earnest's head. For the first time in years, she sang a lullaby that had since slipped out of her memory.

_Look up, up at the sun,_

_There's no need to run,_

_Showers of bright rays,_

_Let them show you the way._

_Now follow me young one,_

_Fear not, no need to run,_

_Dance past the night's stars,_

_Seek out the moon, it's not far,_

_And breathe in the light,_

_Rise up and take flight._

_Sing now with your soul_

_Stand tall, proud, and whole,_

_Let your heart grow,_

_And taste the rainbow._

_Now follow me young one,_

_Fear not, no need to run,_

_Dance past the night's stars,_

_Seek out the moon, it's not far,_

_And breathe in the light,_

_Rise up and take flight._

But even the lullaby's words failed to wipe out the fears that had latched onto her heart.

At that point, she felt nothing could keep her from fearing the worst.

How long the two stayed like this – Amber sitting on the couch and Earnest curled up on her lap – Amber couldn't even guess. What with how shaken her mind was, it could have been five minutes, an hour, or several hours. Time had long since become irrelevant. However long it was, the racing emotions still felt as wild and rampant as ever.

Only one thought came to her. Amidst all the chaotic fears still clashing in her head, one thought seemed to engulf all others.

_Please come home._


	15. In the Realm of Dreams

Somewhere in the dead of night, Patrick Mac sunk further and more deeply into sleep. As the monitor continued displaying his constantly shifting vitals and the medical staff went on keeping an eye on their patient, he found himself feeling unexplainably…curious. In the strangest way, he felt like he was falling, but then where was he plummeting to?

The answer to his question arrived instantaneously.

With his head throbbing so loudly he swore his ears broke out ringing, he slowly opened his eyes. For a moment, the world around him appeared so blurred and out of focus that he had trouble identifying his surroundings. Wherever he was, it was somewhere cold; his body was now shivering. A quick glance down at his arms and he saw they'd broken out in goose bumps. It wasn't till he waited another moment, and then it all came into perfect focus as to where he now was.

He was in the middle of what looked to be a forest. Pine trees towered over him and wherever he looked, he was met by the sight of dense shrubbery, fallen logs, and dozens of moss-covered rocks. How or why he'd ended up here, he hadn't the slightest idea. Nothing about of any of this made even a bit of sense but whatever the case, he was there. But was this a well-fabricated dream that felt remarkably real…or reality?

That he wasn't sure of.

What he did know for sure was that he was clearly alone. After scanning the forest, he came across not a single soul. Nor did he notice any birds taking to the sky. There was no doubt that he was indeed alone in this apparently empty forest.

"Hello?" he called out nervously.

No response. That led him to believe he really must have found himself here alone.

Or so he thought.

From somewhere came a sharp, cracking sound that tore through the otherwise uninterrupted silence. He started in surprise, his eyes instantly darting to and fro in search of where the sound had originated. It immediately dawned on him that just recently he'd heard that sound. Quite recently, actually. But then what was it?

When the forest then erupted in a series of popping sounds, only then did he understand where and when he'd heard that before.

He knew too well what caused that sound, and where it had come from.

He knew…because he himself now knew what it was like to be shot.

The sound had been startling then but here out in the open forest, the dreaded sound echoed in a way that was all but eerie. It was like some unknown force was working to amplify it in the hopes of leaving him trembling in fear.

The one and only thing Patrick could think of doing was to run. Where he'd run to, it didn't matter. So long as he drew farther away from the alarming, never-ending sound of the screaming bullets.

But it seemed the faster he ran, the louder the sound of the deafening cracks of the bullets became. One after the next they came after him, but while frantically dodging around the numerous shrubs and fallen logs, he was no closer to safety. If anything, the imminent danger seemed to be creeping up on him to the point where he feared he was now running in vain. The ear-splitting pops were consuming the forest, leaving it far colder and darker a place than Patrick first recalled. The great trees towering over him now appeared black and ominous. A howling, moaning wind swept by.

Worst, he swore his eyes were now seeing an endless number of them. Like identical clones, they stood shoulder to shoulder amidst the shadowy trees while glaring at him with eyes that flashed. Gone were any hopes of escaping this place; it now looked as if this would be the place to serve as his tomb.

Overcome with defeat, he collapsed to his knees. By now, the sky had since exploded in a storm of thunder and brilliant streaks of lightning. From every direction, his ears were met with the sound of relentless thunder, and unnerving laughter.

Whatever was to become of him, there'd be no stopping it. He now knew that.

There was nothing left to do now but close his eyes…and wait for the end.

What next happened sent Patrick's mind into a state of sheer, utter confusion.

He'd expected the last sound he'd ever hear to be that of a storm of bullets raining down on him like a shower of death.

Instead what he heard was a sound that struck him as just as startling.

It was a roar. The sound was of such force that it shook the very trees themselves, and brought an end to the storm of bullets. Patrick hardly had time to comprehend what was now happening when he lifted his head and instantly noticed the world around him…was _changing._

For one, the gunmen were fading out of existence. Like dust in the breeze, they vanished out of sight completely. With their disappearance came the end of the dreaded bullets that brought Patrick back to the nightmare from that very day.

Feeling speechless and all but confused, he slowly rose to his feet to better watch this odd and unexplainable spectacle.

Simply put, the colors of the world around him were returning. All the shades of black and gray were melting away and painting over them were the bright, familiar colors he'd seen before. The trees again showed off the various shades of green of the countless leaves, along with the dense shrubbery and long blades of grass. Gorgeous tones of ruby reds, sapphire blues and sunflower yellows emerged in the plants. Up in the sky, a storm of darkness was giving way to the recognizable clouds of white. Best of all, once more the sun was shining so brightly down on the forest below, Patrick felt the rays of warmth beaming own on his face.

The colors of the world had wiped out all shades of darkness and gloom. Returning also to the forest were the flocks of birds that chattered in the treetops above.

With a relieved smile, he turned to make his way out of the forest…and stopped dead in his tracks. It was like the air had just gotten sucked right out of his lungs. He felt he couldn't breathe. His whole body had gone so numb he feared he might never move another muscle again.

He had good reason to feel that way, for just a few feet in front of him…was a _lion._

Patrick closed his eyes, and re-opened them to find the lion still there, looking just as real and far larger than any he'd ever seen. Its massive head was surrounded by a brown, hairy mane, its tail was long and tasselled and its paws were lined with the sharpest of claws. One swipe from those terrible claws and his life would flash before his eyes. To say a shot of fear had just rushed through him was all but an understatement. The terror of the sight jolted him to where he was unable to will his feet to wake up and move.

His fear of falling to a storm of bullets was quickly replaced by the fear of this enormous animal pouncing and sealing his fate.

But oddly enough, that wasn't what happened.

For whatever reason Patrick couldn't understand, the lion remained perfectly still while locking its eyes on the defenceless man in front of him. Even more oddly, Patrick found he had no choice but to keep his eyes on the lion's and doing so, something struck him about this lion's eyes. Rather than the typical amber-colored eyes characteristic of the mighty animals, this lion's eyes were a shade of brown.

When it occurred to Patrick he might not be so doomed as he'd just thought, he started piecing things together. Up till then, the forest had been a place of gloom and dread, but upon the lion's arrival, the cursed place had been re-painted with bright and lively colors.

As bizarre as it seemed, there was no denying that this lion had been the one to step in and wipe out his every fear. But where had it come from? Why had it cared to help him at all?

Whatever the reason, locking eyes with this lion left him feeling a newfound sense of…strength. As he let his eyes drift slightly upward, he saw a burst of golden light shining down from through the treetops. For a moment the light appeared brighter and stronger than even the sun itself. It seemed to outshine everything else, so much that soon all Patrick's eyes could make out was a vast, shimmering and golden light.

He now realized there was no reason to fear this lion.

Clearly, this predatory animal had no intentions of lashing out at him.

No, it was like these two were locked in some mysterious…connection. But the most baffling question of all still remained – why?

At one point, Patrick noticed the lion slowly and silently approaching him. Normally, the sight of a huge lion's head leaning in would have caused his heart to give out, but by now, the fear had washed out of him. If anything, that unspoken connection between them seemed stronger than just moments ago.

Without hesitating, Patrick lifted his hand up toward the lion's large, golden face. The majestic animal responded by holding eye contact with him for a few seconds longer and then…Patrick buried one of his hands in its mane. Here, he felt such a burst of energy that he couldn't quite describe how he made him feel. In some ways, he felt ten years younger. At the same time, he felt that all he wanted was to go on running till he could run no more. He felt so incredibly alive that in the weirdest way, he felt that he himself was now a source of radiant energy that helped light up the forest.

When the shower of golden light grew so strong it was nearly blinding, Patrick shielded his eyes, waiting for the light show to end.

When he finally uncovered his eyes, he was met with even more questions.

He was no longer in the forest. Gone were the lion and the glistening light display. His new surroundings were quite different, and much harder to identify.

A quick scan showed him to have landed in a place that seemed to stretch on for miles. Staring in puzzlement, he guessed it might go on for miles and miles without end. Wherever he looked, he saw blurred shadows that looked to be constantly moving, slowly and gently.

Glancing upward, an impressive sight met his eyes. Gone was the blue sky and clouds of white that he'd seen while in the forest. As impossible a sight as it was, what he was now gazing up at was a sky of every color imaginable. They were clouds that belonged nowhere on Earth, for they were glowing with colors of reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues and purples. It was such a dazzling display that he felt he could have gone on standing there for days, just staring up in wide-eyed wonder at this kaleidoscopic sky.

"W-where am I?" he whispered, dropping his gaze.

He hadn't expected an answer, but a deep voice then called out to him.

"Hello, Patrick."

Patrick blinked and opened his mouth to speak, but found it had gone dry. Looking around, he saw no one and instantly wondered where the voice had come from.

"W-who are you?" he asked nervously. "Where is this?"

"You don't know me, Patrick," the man answered, still not visible. "But I've been watching you, as others have."

"Wait…what?"

"It's not your time," the man explained, his voice calm and in control. "What you demonstrated today at Chelsea High was nothing short of immense courage. But it's not yet your time. There's still much you have yet to learn. The battle has yet to begin, but when it does…we will be ready. As will you. But your time hasn't yet arrived. You've still much to do in the life that's yours. Your time on Earth is far from over."

"But who are _you_?" Patrick asked, his head swimming with curiosity. "And _where_ is this?"

"Patience, Patrick," the man replied reassuringly. "All will become clear when the time is right, as that is the way it was meant to be."

Before Patrick could say another word, he felt a sudden, tugging sensation. Whatever was now pulling him, it was growing in intensity. A swirling wall of color shone around him, and the last image he saw was that of a shadowy figure that might have been the man that had just spoken with him.

Then everything went black.


	16. A New Morning

Back in Patrick's apartment, Amber was still sitting on the leather couch, staring blankly ahead at the wall of shifting, morphing colours. No longer did the colours appear bright and lively as they had at one point – now they seemed dull and lifeless. On top of that, with how many tears her aching eyes had let slide down her face, she felt her eyes could cry no more. Still curled up in her lap was Earnest, who like Amber, had been unable to nod off. As much as her mind – so full of exhaustion – ached for rest, her racing emotions had prevented her from being able to fall into sleep. As she was unable to forget the horrors of what that morning had brought down upon her, how could she ever nod off to sleep, only to then be sucked into a realm of vicious nightmares?

Whether she was awake or asleep, the unforgettable terrors would still take hold of her.

Simply put, she was a helpless prisoner to her own unrelenting fears. There was no avoiding that.

As for time, she and Earnest had spent what felt like a lifetime sitting there on that couch. The never-ending tick-tock-tick tock of the clock had long since become silent for them. For the longest time, nothing but silence had ruled over the lonely apartment. While struggling through their grief and countless fears, they had provided whatever comfort they could to the other. For Amber, the simple comfort of feeling the cat nestled in her lap reminded her that as tragic as that day had been, still she wasn't as alone as she'd let herself believe.

For the hours that had since passed by, she felt the tears had drained her completely. She couldn't recall a time when she'd cried this long and hard before. Between the shock, disbelief and sadness of it all, the one and only thing she'd been unable to stop herself from doing as the night went by was sobbing. As she'd cried longer and harder than she'd ever recalled, she'd now reached a point where the tears had stopped shedding. Having let the reality of the terrible day sink in more fully, she was now letting the numbness take hold of her. Her body was now entering a kind of stillness and the silence that still filled the apartment felt lonelier and more unsettling than just minutes ago.

As for the most frightening question of all still remaining, there was no running or hiding from the truth anymore. She'd wanted so badly to think that even now events might turn around for the better. So desperately she'd wanted to believe that perhaps her tears of despair might turn to tears of relief and this whole nightmare might finally come to an end.

But she couldn't deny what she knew to be so painfully true.

Patrick Mac still hadn't come home to them.

As to why that was, her anxious heart had already reached the unfortunate, gut-wrenching explanation as to why – he hadn't gotten through the night. Somewhere in the dead of night, his struggling heart must have surrendered to the overwhelming fight that began the moment he'd been shot.

While sitting there with the cat lying quietly on her lap, up on the surface, night was gradually turning to day. Gone was the whiteness of the moon; now starting its gradual ascent into the awakening sky was the morning sun. Such a warm, orange glow was creeping up steadily into the waiting sky, wanting to breathe life once more into the world. As Amber was underground, she'd have no way of witnessing the rays of bright, glorious sunshine, nor would she be able to feel the soothing warmth as they rained down on her face.

For however long it was she'd been sitting on that couch, Amber felt it had already been days since she'd last felt the warmth of the morning sun. With the dark and lonely place she'd been stuck in, she so longed to return to the surface. There, she could walk through the various grassy trails, all while under a clear, cloudless sky and all while breathing in the warmth of the gleaming sun.

Thinking of the sun though only seemed to intensify the unshakeable bitterness she felt at everything. So unfair it was that such a selfless man who showed nothing but love and courage for herself and Chelsea High would never again be able to stare up at the radiant sun. Or teach. Or read. Or walk through Grand Blossom Park. Or enjoy life.

The unfairness of it all would have just about suffocated her had she not still been so incredibly numb.

"How did this all happen?" she whispered, her voice sounding eerily hollow.

As she sat there now staring down at the floor in a spiralling daze, she heard the vibrating sound of her comm. For a split second, the sound hadn't quite registered. But then she tiredly reached over, thumbing the screen to activate it. She couldn't put her finger on it who would be calling her at that hour in the morning. So rarely did she ever get calls from anyone at that hour. It wasn't even six o'clock yet. Who could possibly be calling her, and so early?

"Hello?" she said, now realizing how truly tired she sounded. Gone was the voice that had once been hers; it was now bleak and lacking the energy that had been missing for hours.

There was a brief moment of perfect silence, and then she heard a voice.

It was a man's voice.

She knew that voice. She feared it was a voice she'd never hear again.

"Hi, Amber."

The instant those two words reached her ears, she broke out in a gasp of shock. Total, absolute shock. There was no holding back. As the shock of hearing those two words set in, the comm slipped out of her grasp and fell onto the couch. At once, the ears of Earnest perked up, and she brought her face closer to the comm, her eyes seeming to brighten.

With a quivering hand, Amber picked up the comm, hesitated momentarily, took a shaky breath, felt her eyes welling with tears and whispered, "P-Patrick?"

"It's okay, Amber," he told her reassuringly. His voice sounded as calm as ever before. "I'm okay."

"But…but the surgery?" she cried, struggling to keep her emotions from taking control again. "Y-you were in there so long. I…I thought you were dead."

"I'm okay," she heard him say softly. There was no doubting that he sounded tired, but after having just undergone surgery, there was still much healing his body required. "The doctors told me it was a difficult surgery, but they kept watch over me through the night, and they said the rest of my recovery should go just fine. If you want, you can come and see me. They advised me to focus on healing for the next few days, but you can drop by for a bit if you like."

That was all she needed to hear. No further words needed exchanging. Her shaken world had now brought itself back from the depths of lonely despair to a sense of such joy and relief that she wanted to breathe in every minute of it.

She quickly tucked her comm in her pocket, and looked to Earnest with a growing smile.

"He's coming home!" she told her, breaking out in a relieved, elated chuckle. She felt she could go on laughing till it hurt, or till the muscles in her face could go on smiling and laughing no more. He's coming home!

The cat meowed loudly while flickering her tail, the sound of her deep purring filling the air once more. With how incredibly silent the apartment had been up till then, the simple sound of a cat's purring only made her smile that much more.

As for the Earnest, with this latest bit of news, once more could the carefree cat be happy again.

Patrick would soon be home again.

* * *

As the Bernick Hospital was within the vast underground complex of Chelsea, it wasn't long till Amber found herself standing in front of the large hospital. It consisted of three floors, and after a quick glance around, there was no arguing that it was easily one of the busiest hospitals in the area. Though with the fantastic crew of doctors, nurses and other medical staff, patients received the highest standard of care during their time there.

Taking in the sight of the building, all Amber could think as she stood there staring at the double-glass doors with unblinking eyes was: he's in there.

The thought of seeing Patrick again restored her with the much-needed energy and hope that she'd so desperately been missing for the past few hours. As painful as the past few hours had been, she could now push those fears aside, letting them slide out of her mind. All the worries and doubts and grief that had flooded her thoughts no longer mattered. All were now a thing of yesterday. A thing of the past.

The morning sun was now shining on a new, and much brighter day.

Today, she could once more know what joy felt like.

So without wasting a single second, she strode through the doorway, making her way straight to the nurse's station. With each step she took, she felt herself having to keep from breaking out running down the halls in search of the room where she'd find him waiting for her. With how extremely close she now was to seeing him, it took everything in her not to let the overwhelming emotions pour out of her.

Upon seeing Amber approaching the desk, one of the nurses said, "Hi there. Are you here to see a doctor?"

"No, I'm here to see Patrick Mac," she said, her beating heart wanting to leap right out of her chest. At any rate, it was certainly beating much faster than she'd anticipated it would upon arriving. "I'm Amber Norm. He said it was okay if I came to see him."

"Ah, right! Yes, he's awake right now and waiting for you."

The nurse beside her added, "Soon as the doctor gave him the good news, the first thing he said was, 'I need to see Amber!'"

"Take your first left, walk down to the end of the hall and you'll find him in room five," the first nurse instructed, pointing down the long hallway.

"Thank you," said Amber, her voice catching in her throat. With each passing second, she felt her heart really would burst out of her chest in sheer excitement.

The two nurses exchanged knowing smiles; they knew how clearly thrilled she was to see him. Being able to deliver good news to those who came through the hospital doors never failed to put a smile on their faces. While there were still several times when they and the doctors had no choice but to deliver unfortunate news, it was times like this when they themselves couldn't help smiling.

As Amber walked quickly down the halls, she felt her mind racing with countless emotions. But unlike before, the overwhelming thoughts rushing through her were those of incredible relief and excitement. Passing room after room, it still hadn't yet struck her how remarkably things had changed in such a short period time.

But it had.

The hours of that night had brought nothing but fear and despair, as she and Earnest remained in Patrick's apartment while he remained in the hospital, fighting for his life. Amazingly, as the sun rose on that new day, so did the astounding fact that Patrick Mac was alive and well. So many fears that his body would surrender to its injuries clouded her thinking, but now those thoughts could be put to rest.

He was alive and waiting for her!

When she finally reached the end of the hall, her searching eyes fell upon the room just to her right – number five. They'd told her he'd be in this room. Just inside this very room, she'd walk in to look upon a man she'd gone on fearing had slipped out of the world completely. All through the night, her restless mind had been filled with nothing but repeating images – Patrick crumpling to the ground, his cloudy eyes struggling to focus on her as she cradled his head in her lap, and watching still as a statue as his body was lifted into the back of the ambulance that would take him to the Bernick Hospital.

With her heart feeling as though it were now in her throat, she silently entered the room, focused her attention on the hospital bed…and froze. It was like the pause button had just been pressed on her life. Like wildfire, she felt a rush of glee blazing through her, starting at her head and spreading down to the tips of her toes. She almost had to blink and look again, the sight was so wonderfully amazing. For all but a split second, she wondered if she was really dreaming and fabricating this entire too-good-to-be-true picture.

As dreamlike as it all felt though, she knew the truth.

It was real.

There he sat propped up in bed, staring at the open doorway with a joyous expression as if an angel had just been sent down from the heavens to visit him. So relieved and relaxed he looked sitting there, as if he weren't in a hospital but instead, back in his own bed far below the grassy plains of Manhattan.

"Amber," whispered Patrick, a jubilant smile spreading across his face. His eyes seemed to shine, as it were Christmas.

For Amber, she couldn't even respond. The shock of it all was so great, she couldn't bring herself to utter even a single word. She felt her mouth going dry. She was so caught up in the simple, yet miraculous fact that Patrick Mac was alive and well that she wouldn't have known what to say even if she'd been able to speak. Finally, all the emotions were too much for her, and the sight of seeing him brought the tears back to her eyes, but no longer were they tears of grief.

They were tears of absolute joy.

Patrick wasn't dead.

He was _alive!_

Without a word, she rushed over to the bed as if afraid she might suddenly lose him again. It was like she feared some invisible hand might grab hold of him, but there was no reason to live in fear anymore. It was now time to embrace the rising joy that she'd felt stirring inside her the moment she'd heard his voice through the comm.

While almost breaking out in tears again, she brought her face close to his, wrapping her arms as far around him as she could, pulling him into a hug and nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck. She kept her eyes closed, doing nothing but surrendering to the growing delight that this was all real. As she stood there holding him close, it struck her that what almost put her over the edge was touching him. Running her fingers through his long hair, feeling his warm breath against her cheek and more than anything else, staring once more into the brown eyes that never failed to get her emotions racing wildly.

"I missed you," was all she managed to croak out. The rush of relief still had yet to be tamed but right then, she couldn't have cared how long or hard she went on crying. All that mattered was that Patrick – her Pat – was alive.

"I know," Patrick whispered soothingly, placing a hand on her cheek. He was just as overwhelmed with joy as she was, so much that he felt the unmistakable trickling of tears sliding down his face. "I missed you too."

For the longest time, the two were silent. As they still hadn't yet gotten over the relief of being together again, they could only go on staring at the other, trying to convince themselves that it wasn't a dream, but reality. But even amidst the stillness and silence that soon overtook them, somehow they were able to communicate all the words to each other. Somewhere in the light shining in their eyes, the words spoke for themselves in such a way that it was like a dance in itself, full of vigour and passion.

After a while, Amber pulled back slightly from Patrick, still unable to take her eyes off of him. If it hadn't yet dawned on her that this was all reality, she might have feared she was staring at a ghost. But she hardly hard to take in the warmth in his eyes and his contagious smile to know without a doubt that he was no figment of her imagination. No, he was in no way a ghost.

"It's okay, Amber," he told her reassuringly, wiping the tears from her face. "I'm okay."

She nodded, trying to contain all the emotions that wanted to break free entirely.

"It's just…I…I thought you were _dead_ ," she said in a choking voice. "When the hours went by, I didn't think you'd made it." She placed a hand over her mouth, fighting hard to keep her emotions together as she uttered, "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Hey," he said softly. He cupped her face in both of his hands, and met her gaze with the eyes that could so easily pull her in. In a way that was almost hypnotic, he locked eyes with her, the calmness and sureness of his voice washing all over her. "It's okay now. You don't have to worry, Amber. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Falling silent again, he held her close while rubbing her back and leaving a trail of soft kisses along her neck. The feeling of his lips against her skin sent familiar shivers down her body and combined with the comforting voice and arms wrapped around her back, well…it was only with Patrick that she felt like she was home. So alive and comfortable she felt with him, that it wasn't till right then that she realized just how much she'd missed him.

When he brought his lips to hers, the two came together in a clash of such explosive bliss that neither wanted to end. For that moment, it was like the two were again kissing for the first time, where a kind of unexplainable magic lingered in the air, hovering over them in secret. Having reunited with Patrick, Amber swore it was like the energy that had been snatched from her had just been reborn, only stronger and livelier than before.

It also occurred to them both how much they'd missed kissing the other. As she felt his arms envelope her like they used to, she seemed to forget what day and time it was. The only thought lying heavy in her mind was the comforting feeling of his warm lips pressing against her own. As she sunk deeper and farther into a state of such tranquility, it was like this could have gone on forever.

She wasn't aware of how long they'd been kissing till finally Patrick pulled away, and chuckled under his breath.

"Don't forget to breathe," he said with a smile.

"Oh, sorry!" she said quickly. "I didn't mean to smother you…"

"No worries," said Patrick, still wearing that amused smile on his face. "Besides, you weren't smothering me. I could kiss you for hours, if my lungs would let me. But they're pretty demanding."

"Yeah, they are," she agreed. She paused briefly, then went on saying, "I just…forgot how much I liked doing that."

Patrick stared at her – the affection so palpable in his eyes – and told her softly, "I missed you so much, Amber. I'm glad they could save me…and I'm glad you're the first person I got to see."

"I'm just glad you're alive," she answered, her eyes wanting to well up.

Patrick nodded in understanding. "Me too."

Amber took a seat next to Patrick, taking in the surroundings of his room. There was a large glass-stained window to their left and just outside, the morning sun was continuing its gradual ascent into the awakening sky. Already the gorgeous shades of orange were casting a warm glow on the world below and staring at the portrait-like display, the two felt they'd never seen such a breathtaking sight. As the two both lived in the underground complex of Chelsea, it wasn't often they got to witness sunsets in their entirety. Only when they ventured to the surface above were they able to gaze their eyes upon the wondrous spectacle. But right then, from where they sat, the rising sun couldn't have looked any brighter or more beautiful.

"I've always wanted to see watch the sunrise," Patrick commented thoughtfully.

"I've watched a sunset before," said Amber, staring out at the slowly unfolding display of colours. "But not a sunrise."

The two went on watching the rising sun for a few minutes longer, till at last Amber broke the silence.

"Patrick?"

He turned to her, waiting for her to go on.

"We...there's a lot to talk about," she began, the words nearly jumping out of her mouth with rapid-fire speed. "A-about yesterday I mean. That guy. He...I know they got him but that doesn't explain anything. Who was he? W-why did he have to shoot you? And—"

Patrick placed a finger gently to her lips.

"One thing at a time," he offered, sensing her apprehension. "It's a lot to think and talk about, but let's take it a bit slower, okay?"

She ran his words though her mind, then nodded quietly.

"Why he did what he did, I'm not sure," Patrick started, reflecting back on the startling incident. He closed his eyes, took a breath and did his best to not let his fears from the day before take hold of him again. He had to focus and try and piece together the events from yesterday as best he could. "But I do remember him saying he'd been sent on strict orders, and that he wouldn't fail him. But we don't know who he was referring to."

Amber bit her lip, now deep in thought and transporting herself back to the moment when all hell had broken loose at the school.

"He's a monster," she uttered so softly that Patrick could just make out the words. She seemed to be gritting her teeth in unshakeable anger. "He wanted to kill you and…and for what? For no reason, he wanted you dead."

"But there was a reason," Patrick reminded her, sorting out the details in his head. "He specifically told us we'd have the pleasure of meeting him soon enough…but who? Who was he talking about?"

As for Amber, her thoughts were now drifting miles away. It was like Patrick's words had slipped in one ear and out the other, unheard. The frustrations she felt for this unidentified gunman were now rushing back, as if demanding she acknowledge them.

"He should have died!" Amber said, falling victim once more to her emotions. "I could have shot him. I could have—"

" _No_!" Patrick said firmly, cutting her off. "You know you couldn't have—"

"I could have," she argued. "And I would have. He shot you, Patrick! He wanted you dead! How can you say he didn't deserve what he did to you?"

"Because that's what he wanted you to do," Patrick told her, grasping her hand in his own. "Trust me, Amber. Killing him wouldn't have been the answer. It wouldn't have—"

She shook her head, as if still unable to shake loose the weight of anger in her heart. "I don't care," she shot back stubbornly. "I would have done it."

"But that's just what he _wanted_!" Patrick countered, his own emotions starting to break free. "He wanted you to become a killer, Amber! That's _not_ you! You know that."

She locked eyes with him, and there was an uncomfortable silence now forming between them. Neither knew quite what to say, until Patrick spoke again, but with a quieter, more controlled tone this time.

"It's what people like him _want_ , Amber," he told her calmly. "They hit you where it hurts most, and then make you vulnerable, and a victim to your own emotions. That's what he wanted from you. It didn't matter to him that he walked away alive, since he was captured minutes later, anyway. No…there's something bigger going on here. Whoever it is he mentioned working for, I've got a feeling it's him we should be focusing on."

She didn't answer immediately. She was carefully rolling his words around in her mind, considering what he'd just explained to her. She knew controlling her emotions hadn't always been her strong point, and it now occurred to her that suppressing her anger was especially challenging.

She sighed and said under her breath, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Patrick assured her. The orange glow from the morning sun now filled the room, lighting it up in a way that was almost mesmerizing.

"No, you're right," she told him. She could feel herself calming down again. No matter how angry she felt about what had taken place the day before, she had to make sure she didn't let the anger imprison her. "I was so mad at the world, I…I kept thinking I should have killed him, but that's not the answer."

"I was angry too," Patrick said, half to himself and half to Amber. "But anger's not the answer."

She nodded in agreement, and added, "There's still so much we don't know, though."

"I don't know how we'll figure out who this other person is," said Patrick, thinking. "We'll just have to keep our eyes open. It's all we can do."

"It's scary," she said, letting her eyes drift over to the open window. "He could be _anyone_."

With a million questions and no answers, the two weren't sure how to go about putting the pieces of this perplexing, unsettling puzzle together. Who was the guy who'd shot Patrick? What did he mean when he said he'd been sent to Chelsea High on strict orders? Who was he working for? Above all, why did he have his eyes set on Patrick in the first place? What did it all mean?

Rather than sit there and drive himself crazy dwelling on the countless questions, he instead turned his attention to a few hours ago. While he'd been sleeping, he'd found himself in a dream that had left him all but baffled. It had left him so bewildered, he wasn't sure what to think of it, but sitting there right then, he felt the need to discuss it.

"There's something else I've been thinking about."

"What's that?"

"While I was sleeping," Patrick began, rewinding back to just a few hours ago. "I had a dream. You'd think after what happened, it would have been a nightmare, but it wasn't. It was just…bizarre. I still can't make sense of it, or what it all means. All I know is that it was just…odd."

"How come?" she asked curiously.

"I…I was in a forest," he explained, the dream reappearing again in his mind. "I thought I was alone, but I wasn't. I heard a noise that sounded like bullets, and that got me thinking it had to be a nightmare, but then I saw it." He paused momentarily, and said in a confused tone, "It…it was a lion."

"A lion?" she asked, feeling just as confused as Patrick.

"At first, I thought I was just seeing things," Patrick went on. "But then it struck me that I wasn't. It was really there, in the flesh. I know it was only a dream, but I swear it felt as real as if I hadn't been dreaming. I know that doesn't make sense, but that's how I felt at the time."

"What else happened?" she asked.

"It didn't take me long to figure out it was the lion that got rid of the gunmen and the bullets. I felt like the guy was chasing me and I kept expecting to hear the gunshot and feel the bullet in my back but…it never came. Instead, I heard this loud roar, the sound of the bullets vanished and then I saw it. I don't know what I was more scared of, the guns or the lion. I kept trying to run off, but it was like my feet wouldn't let me. It was like they were glued in place. I couldn't even close my eyes, that's how scared I was. But then the lion came towards me and…and it didn't attack. It didn't hurt me in the slightest. It just…stared at me. In some weird way, I felt relaxed. Like I had nothing to fear."

Amber kept her gaze on Patrick, but her mind was now transporting itself to a lonely forest. There, she was shown the image of a golden lion, so mighty and beautiful and hard to describe. It was like she could see the dream itself, appearing to her as if it had left Patrick's mind to then seep into her own.

"That is… _strange_ ," she said at last, sounding puzzled. "Maybe it was one of those dreams you have that don't make sense in the moment."

Patrick shrugged, and said, "I don't know. All I know is that it felt so real, real enough that I wouldn't have thought I was dreaming if I didn't know for a fact that I was. But the lion wasn't even the most baffling part."

"There was more?"

"After the lion and the forest vanished, I ended up someplace else. I haven't a clue where it was. It didn't look like any place I'd ever been to. Then again, now that I think back on it, it didn't even look like anywhere here. On Earth, I mean."

"You mean like another planet or something?"

"Maybe," said Patrick. "It's hard to explain. I don't even fully understand it myself. Maybe it was just a dream and nothing more, but I keep thinking there's more to it than that."

"What was it like?"

"It was…colorful," said Patrick, letting himself travel back momentarily to that mysterious place from his dream. "The clouds weren't like any clouds here. They were of every color. Orange, red, green, blue. It was like a hundred rainbows in the sky. When I looked around, all I saw were blurry images. I couldn't tell where I was, if it was a city, or out in the open. Everything looked so hazy. But wherever it was, I felt safe there. I couldn't explain why, but there was a kind of quietness that made me think I didn't have to be scared. And even though it was quiet, I could still make out voices. They were faint, but I could just make them out. Then I heard a man."

"Any idea who it was?" asked Amber, her curiosity growing.

"No," was Patrick's answer. "Whoever it was, he kept telling me it wasn't my time yet. He said it wasn't the way it was meant to be. He said I still had much more to do on Earth. I tried asking him who he was and where I was, but he only said I'd find out someday, when the time was right. I still can't make sense of what that all means, other than there might be something bigger than we first thought going on here. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it all felt so real. I wish I could explain it better, but I couldn't make out every detail. So much was blurred, but what I could see made me think it had to all mean something."

Amber thought for a moment, ran her fingers through her hair and offered, "So basically we're more confused now than ever before."

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Patrick concurred, chuckling lightly. "So many questions, yet no answers."

"Well, whatever the case," said Amber, intertwining her fingers through Patrick's. "Maybe it's all over now. I know he said he was working for some other guy, but he could have been lying. What if there is no one else? What if it's all over now?"

"Maybe," said Patrick, sounding unsure. "Or what if it's all just beginning?"

"No," said Amber, shaking her head. "You don't know that. You don't know what he really meant."

"No, I don't," said Patrick, his eyes fixed on hers. "But whatever happens from here, I'm just glad we're together again. I missed you, Earnest, and Chelsea High. I can't wait to see them all again. I'm even looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again. These beds are comfortable, but there's nothing like your own bed. Earnest knows that better than anyone."

"She really missed you," said Amber, remembering how out-of-character Patrick's cat had behaved during his absence. "She was so quiet, and kept sitting at the front door, staring up at it. It's like she knew something was wrong. She wouldn't even eat the food I put down for her. She just kept waiting for you."

Patrick nodded silently, his thoughts now shifting to his carefree cat. "I can't wait to see her," he softly uttered. He then remembered everyone back at Chelsea High and broke out in an excited smile, "And my class. And the teachers, and everyone."

"It wasn't the same without you there, you know," she told him soberly. "We all just kind of walked around in a daze, not wanting to accept what happened. I think we all kept thinking we'd step into your classroom and see you there. No one really talked or said anything. I think we were all in shock."

It hurt Patrick to think how much the whole frightening incident had impacted those at the school. They were like his second family. It made him all the angrier that the whole alarming event had caused such fear and distress amongst the students and teachers. Not in the longest time had the school ever known such terror, until it had re-introduced itself on that tragic morning.

"Well," said Patrick after a long pause. "I'm coming back."

"Did they say how long your recovery will take?"

"A few days, I think," he said. "I should be back at school by the end of the week. Are you okay with watching Earnest till then?"

"Course I am," she said quickly. "She's like the sister I never had, in a cat sort of way. We get along pretty well."

"I knew you would," said Patrick with a smile.

As she sat there with her hands still enveloped in Patrick's, it was then that an idea struck her.

"Hey, I have an idea."

"What?"

"Until you're back," she told him excitedly. "What if I brought your whole class here to see you?"

Patrick broke out in smile and said, "I'd love that!" He added jokingly, "Just don't bring the whole school here with you. I don't think they'd all fit in this room."

Amber laughed at that, enjoying the feeling of being able to laugh again with Patrick. Whether he was laughing or smiling, he never failed to fill her with joy.

"No, can't say three thousand people would all fit in here," she said, chuckling. "Too claustrophobic."

"Just a little," Patrick threw in.

"Guess I should head out then," she said, giving his hand a light squeeze. "They'll probably want to check up on you soon."

"Before you go," said Patrick, slowly sitting up. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Sure."

He stared at her for a brief moment, and then asked, "Can you sing for me?"

She blinked in surprise, and asked, "Sing?"

"Yeah," said Patrick. "When you said you liked singing growing up, I always wanted to hear you sing."

She gave him a small, somewhat nervous smile, dropped her eyes to the bed and said, "I-I've never really sung in front of anyone before. I always just sort of did it when no one else was around."

"Then I'm the perfect audience," he said, resting his head back on the pillow. "I love your voice regardless, so hearing you sing would just make me love it that much more…and _you_."

"You're such a _romantic_ ," she commented.

Patrick shrugged, gave her a little wink and remarked, "I'll take that as a compliment!"

"Well, guess I can't say no then," she went on with a grin. "You got me. Hook, line and sinker. What did you want me to sing?"

"Whatever you like," Patrick replied. "The stage is yours."

"Alright," said Amber. "There is something that's stuck with me. A lullaby. I first heard it when I was five and never forgot it. It's called _How Do You Know_?"

"I'm intrigued already," said Patrick, eager to listen. "And with a lullaby, it's bound to put me to sleep."

Before she started, she gave Patrick a smile that had the slightest hint of hesitance in it. "I'm not great at singing," she said, biting her lip briefly. "I never really had lessons, or—"

"Oh, I don't care," said Patrick calmly, a sparkle in his brown eyes. "I love your voice, but if you'd rather not sing, you don't have to. I wouldn't want you—"

"No," she said with certainty. "I want to."

Before he could respond, she placed a finger to his lips, and said with confidence, "I love you, Pat."

He smiled against her fingers and declared, "Well, aren't you a romantic!"

"You're rubbing off on me," she admitted, giving him a playful wink.

Patrick raised an interested brow. He scratched his head and asked curiously, "Am I now?"

"Without a doubt…yes. You're quite irresistible, you know, Mr. Mac."

"My apologies," he said. "Though I can say the same for you, Miss Norm."

Amber's cheeks flushed bright red. All at once, she found Patrick's eyes twinkling with that playful grin that she could never seem to grow tired of.

She inhaled, closed her eyes to reach back to the words of her favorite lullaby, grasped on to the words, exhaled, and began:

_Your voice calls out into the night,_

_Like laughter in the wind, shining so bright,_

_You now raise the sun, help wake up my life,_

_Fears all put to rest, goodbye to my strife,_

_You paint me a rainbow,_

_And reach into my soul, oh how do you know?_

_How do you know just what to say to me?_

_Unlock all my secrets with a single key,_

_Teach me to try what I was scared to try,_

_And hold nothing back as I fly so high,_

_How do you know me from the inside out?_

_And from the outside in?_

_Your voice cries out like joyful birds,_

_Speak to me without a single word,_

_You wipe out the dark and bring me to your light,_

_Hold now my hand as we both take flight,_

_So high we fly as clouds are passing by,_

_Let us now rest in this peaceful sky,_

_How do you know just what to say to me?_

_Unlock all my secrets with a single key,_

_Teach me to try what I was scared to try,_

_And hold nothing back as I fly so high,_

_How do you know me from the inside out?_

_And from the outside in?_

When she finally finished, Amber returned her focus to Patrick, and blinked in confusion. His head was propped up comfortably against the pillow, but his eyes were closed and he was breathing softly. Had he really dozed off that easily? It sure looked like he was sleeping. As she sat there on the bed watching him, she couldn't help think he looked so peaceful. She felt such relief at seeing him at peace as opposed to the previous day when he'd been lying helpless on the floor while his face was twisted in a permanent state of fear, pain and grief.

As she got up from the bed, she leaned in to kiss him good-bye…when his eyes opened and he broke out in a big smile.

"That was lovely!"

Amber gasped in surprise, and then laughed.

"So much for dozing off!" she joked, sitting back down beside him. "You actually had me there."

Patrick pressed his forehead against hers, chuckled and told her, "I couldn't nod off without saying thank you first. And good-bye."

"You don't have to thank me, Pat."

He shrugged and brought his lips to her forehead. "I want to. And for the record…I could listen to you sing all day."

"I'm sure you'd get tired of it by then," she said, amused.

"Not at all," he replied. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. "I couldn't get tired of your voice even if I tried. Though I'm sure you wouldn't care to hear my voice for that long."

"Oh, I don't know," she whispered, bringing her face next to his. "I've grown quite fond of you, Mr. Mac. You have this... _charm_ about you."

"Likewise," he said, also in a spellbound whisper.

As the two leaned in closer, again wanting to let their lips collide in a dance of explosive passion and fireworks…they heard the sound of approaching footsteps. A moment later, they saw one of Patrick's nurses standing in the doorway, looking to them with a knowing smile. She'd seen enough throughout her years as a nurse to know that love had most definitely been rising in the air with these two.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, a clipboard in her hand. "I just need to check up on Mr. Mac and ensure everything's proceeding smoothly."

Amber nodded, and rose to her feet, but not without bringing her hand to Patrick's cheek.

"I'll be back soon as I can."

"Thanks for coming," said Patrick sincerely. "It's nice waking up to a familiar face."

"You'll be seeing lots of familiar faces soon," said Amber, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'll let them know the good news."

Patrick nodded. "Thanks, Amber."

When Amber had left the room, Patrick once more turned his eyes to the open window. By now, the glorious rays of the morning sun were practically flooding through the room, lighting it up in a way that left him more awake than he'd ever recalled feeling. Every bone in his body felt stronger, his heart felt younger and his soul felt like it could have went on dancing for days. After having just reunited with Amber, and with the thought that he'd soon be visited by his students, there was no doubt in his mind.

It was a new morning, and he couldn't have been more thrilled.


	17. Cowardly Lion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the Wizard of Oz. I'm just mentioning some of the characters in this chapter.

During the few days Patrick spent at the Bernick hospital, the staff were pleased to see he was recovering well. His vitals were stable and they ensured he was given nutritious food to help promote optimal healing. While they'd certainly had their doubts as to how his body would respond to the invasive surgery, in the end, he surprised them all. Somehow, he'd been able to overcome his injuries in a way that more than one of the nurses concluded was all but miraculous. It wasn't often the word 'miracle' was used amongst them, but they couldn't deny that whatever it was they'd witnessed was something of a miracle itself. What other explanation was there?

After Amber had paid him a visit, the next part of his morning consisted of the nurse completing her assessment. It had become a routine since Patrick had first arrived there – ensuring his vitals were kept stable, that he received sufficient oxygen and monitoring his overall well-being – so it never surprised him when she appeared.

"You're doing very well, Patrick," the nurse told him, pleased with her findings. She quickly jotted down some notes on her black clipboard. "A few more days, and you'll be free to go."

"Thank you." He smiled, and took a sip of water the nurse had brought for him.

"Well, I'll be back in a little bit," she told him. Before heading to the door, she added, "I see you have some visitors who'd like to see you."

"Visitors?" Patrick gave her a confused look, but then he remembered and broke out in an even bigger smile when his eyes fell on the open doorway. How could he forget?

As the nurse was making her way out of the room, stepping inside were all twenty of his students. In stepped Casey and Roger, Logan and Julie, Jay and Em. Not one of his students wasn't there. It was impossible not to smile when he saw them all entering the room, visibly relieved that their favourite teacher was alive and well. So many shocking images from the previous morning had stuck with them, but seeing Mr. Mac now filled them all with incredible relief. Shannon actually gave Patrick a hug. In no time at all, the room was filled with the sounds of his students saying things like, "Glad you're okay, Mr. Mac!" and, "Can't wait to have you back," and, "We thought you might not make it."

"You didn't all have to come see me," Patrick said. They were all standing around his bed, looking to one another with smiles that only reminded Patrick what great kids they were. As a group, they'd all made their way to the hospital to visit a guy who wasn't just a teacher, but a guy who so many looked up to. He not only provided them with knowledge, but inspired them and offered constant encouragement to not shy away from challenges but rather, to embrace them and learn from them.

"We had to," said Em, stepping forward. "How could we not come see our favourite teacher?"

"I'm sure I'm not—" Patrick began, but she quickly cut him off.

"You are, Mr. Mac," she shot back with a confident smile. It was a smile he'd often seen from the bright student, who was never short on believing in herself. "Ask anyone else who their favourite teacher is, and I'd be willing to put money on it they'd say you every time."

"I'm that popular, am I?" Patrick joked.

"Yup."

"Do you know when you'll be able to come back?" asked Riley.

"The doctors said I should be healed and ready to leave by Friday," Patrick answered. "So a few more days."

Jay looked around the room, and commented with a shrug, "Kind of bland, isn't it?"

Patrick chuckled. "Maybe a little," he replied. "I guess hospitals aren't exactly the same as schools. It'll be nice to get back to Chelsea High. I'm assuming you'll have a substitute teacher than till Friday?"

"We think so," said Shannon. "We heard Ms. Simmons mention there was a woman lined up who'd take over till you came back."

"So you're feeling better now?" asked Roger.

"Well, I still have the next few days to recover," said Patrick. "But I feel perfectly fine. I thought I'd be more tired than I was after surgery, but…I felt fine. The doctors were amazed with how quickly I'd already begun the healing process, so they've no reason to doubt that I'll be back to teaching by the end of the week."

Upon hearing this, Em returned her focus to Patrick, staring at him with a mysterious expression. Though her teacher or her classmates didn't take notice of it, there was no denying that the new look on her face seemed to imply that she knew something. No words were spoken, but as she went on watching her teacher, anyone would have agreed that something was definitely on her mind. As to what that was, none of them would ever know, for they hadn't noticed the change in expression on her face. It had gone unnoticed.

Before leaving with the others, Em gave Patrick a warm smile and said, "Glad you're okay, Mr. Mac."

He nodded, and told her sincerely, "Thanks for dropping by. All of you. It means a lot."

* * *

It was an exciting day when Friday finally rolled around, and Patrick was free to leave the hospital and return to his school. He didn't leave the Bernick hospital though without first thanking the doctors and nurses for all that they'd done for him. But the more they thought about it, the more they felt almost certain that what they witnessed with Patrick Mac wasn't solely a result of their interventions. That much the nurses were certain of. Of course they had no way of proving that Patrick's recovery was due to an unexplainable, mysterious miracle. Nonetheless, that didn't stop them from believing that his survival had undoubtedly been something of a miracle.

When he arrived back to his apartment Thursday night, he'd hardly stepped through the door when he heard a familiar, unmistakable sound – meowing. He didn't need to glance down to see what was now at his feet. He knew already what he'd see.

"I missed you, Earnest," said Patrick. A big smile crossed his face as he kneeled down to rub her under the chin. It was her favourite spot and rubbing her there never failed to get her purring like a lawnmower.

The orange cat purred in contentment, nuzzling her head into Patrick's open hand. Though it had only been a couple of days, to both Earnest and Patrick, it felt like weeks had passed since they'd seen each other. For the kitten, the home just hadn't been the same without her owner there. It was Patrick she always looked forward to greeting after a long day at Chelsea High. It was Patrick she always loved playing with – chasing after jingling, squeaking, chirping toys. And at the end of the day, it was always Patrick she'd curl up next to on his comfortable bed.

Rising back to his feet, he directed his gaze to his apartment, staring in silence as if he'd been gone for years. So comforting it felt to be staring again at all the familiar things that made this place home – the furniture, plants, constantly shifting colors and images on the walls, the balcony where he spent much of his spare time reading, and feeling the soft carpet under his feet. While it had only been a few days since he'd been away from home, Patrick felt as if he were seeing this place for the first time again. He couldn't wait to be able to sleep in his own bed again. While the doctors and nurses had done all they could to keep him comfortable during his recovery, there wasn't a place in the world that could ever replace home.

It was when he watched Earnest trotting into the living room with her tail flickering behind her that a joyous realization struck him.

He was home!

When at last Friday morning was upon him, Patrick found himself once more stepping into the entrance doors of Chelsea High. The excitement upon seeing him again spread through the school instantaneously. Before he knew it, Patrick's eyes were taking in so many people approaching him, all with excited, relieved smiles.

"Patrick, you're back!"

"How're you feeling?"

"Great to have you back?"

"We missed you."

"We were so worried you might not make it."

It was an even greater welcome back than he'd expected, and a rush of delight washed over him. So good it felt to be surrounded again by all the familiar faces of the many students and his fellow teachers. More than once he referred to them as his second family, and right then, he understood all too well why he thought that. They were like a second family. Those at Chelsea High worked together in a way that went beyond simply teachers teaching and students learning. No, they helped one another overcome challenges, and never hesitated to reach out when someone needed it.

Just like when he'd returned home to his underground apartment, it felt great to be back home at Chelsea High.

He felt even more at home when he was again back in his classroom up on the third floor. With his students all seated and their attention to the front of the room, he could return to doing what he loved best in the world – teaching.

Likewise, his students couldn't have been happier to have him back. Of all the teachers, it was Patrick who always managed to make them curious and interested in the vast world of computer technology. Through the advanced computers, there was an infinite realm of information all at their fingertips – historical events and details on most every person or thing on Earth. With Mr. Mac teaching them all the ways and secrets of the world of technology, they felt it was knowledge they'd be able to take with them anywhere and everywhere in life.

"Anyone have any questions about what we reviewed?" Patrick asked the class when the lecture was finished.

Everyone shook their heads.

"Good to have you back, Mr. Mac," Jay told him. "Substitute teachers are alright, but they're not you."

Patrick smiled at the comment, and replied, "Glad to be back, Jay."

"So, uh, no homework tonight?" Jay asked, raising a brow.

The teacher chuckled and answered, "Sorry, Jay. But you've still got homework tonight. But I will give you a homework-free night on the thirty-first."

"Halloween night," Em smiled.

"Days like that are an exception," Patrick said, sitting back down in his chair. "Gotta have some fun every now and then."

"Candy and chocolate is _definitely_ fun," Jay remarked.

"And dressing up," Shannon added. She then looked to Patrick and asked, "Will you be dressing up, Mr. Mac?"

"Probably not," her teacher said with a small smile. "Halloween's fun, but I don't know about—"

"Oh, you gotta dress up!" she exclaimed. "Almost all the teachers here dress up. It's fun!"

Patrick thought for a moment, and finally said, "I'll think about it."

As he was packing up and preparing to head down for lunch, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. It took him all but a few seconds to know who had decided to pay him a visit. It had become a routine for them since the school year had started. At the end of class, the two would head down together to the teacher's lounge to chat and share lunch and discuss how their day was going.

"Hey, stranger," said the familiar voice.

"Hey, now!" he shot back, his face breaking out in a big smile. "I'm not _really_ a stranger now, am I?"

When he lifted his head, he saw Amber striding up to him, her black-and-white handbag at her side as usual.

"Course not," she said, returning his smile with one of her own.

"What a relief," said Patrick with a laugh. "You had me worried there."

"Don't worry, Mr. Mac," she told him, giving him a light nudge in the shoulder. "I'd be foolish to think of my boyfriend as a stranger."

"And I'd be foolish to think of my girlfriend as a stranger," said Patrick with a playful wink.

"So how was class?" she asked.

"Great," he said while stretching his arms. "We're moving along nicely with the new concepts of Advanced Searching." He paused briefly, then added, "That…and they asked me if I was dressing up for Halloween."

"You're going to, right?" she asked quickly, clearly excited about the upcoming Holiday. "You gotta dress up, Pat!"

"I dress up everyday," he countered, chuckling. "They're called _clothes_."

Amber laughed and shot back, "Very funny, genius."

He chuckled and responded, "I know Halloween's a popular time of year, but do I really need to dress up? I wouldn't even know what to wear, for starters."

"I can help you there."

He raised a curious brow and asked, "How?"

"Easy," was her answer. "Myself and a few of the other teachers have a theme picked out already for what we'd like to dress up as."

"Wait," said Patrick, interrupting and putting his hands up. "And let me guess. You and these other teachers want me participating in this Halloween dress up?"

" _Absolutely_!"

"I'm sure you can find another teacher," Patrick offered.

"No one like you," she said, putting on her best frown face. "You're special."

Patrick was clearly holding back an amused smile. It didn't take him long till he rose up out of his seat, walked up to her and said, "Oh, alright. If you insist."

"I knew you'd want to."

"Course you did," said Patrick, locking eyes with her. "You know I can't say no to you. It's my weak spot."

"Nah, you just want in on the fun," she said, tucking a stand of hair behind her ear. She redirected her focus on him, gave him a half grin and asked, "So…want to hear what we've got planned?"

"I'm all ears."

"Well…I'm sure you know of the Wizard of Oz."

"It's one of my favourites."

"We've got the perfect idea," she explained. "I'll dress up as Dorothy, while you, Matt, and Corey can be Scarecrow, Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion."

"So who's Matt?"

"Scarecrow," said Amber.

"And Corey?"

"Tin Man," came the answer.

Patrick nodded slowly, blinked, and then said calmly, "So...I'm the Cowardly Lion, huh?"

Amber shrugged and said, "You'd make such a cute lion." She ran one of her hands through his long, brown hair and fixed her eyes on his, letting the sparkle in his eyes work its magic on her for the thousandth time.

"Alright," said Patrick, wrapping his arms around her. "I guess it's settled then. I'm going to wake up on Halloween as the Cowardly Lion." He cleared his throat, and asked, "How's this sound?" He waited for only a moment, and then opened his mouth and let out a comical " _Rawr_!"

She chortled and said, "Hmm…not very convincing for a cowardly lion. Need more emphasis on sounding cowardly."

"Alright then," said Patrick. He paused for dramatic effect, and then cried, " _Ahhhhhh_!"

"Perfect," she declared. "You sounded very…cowardly."

"Well, lions were always my favourite animal," said Patrick thoughtfully. "Now I just need to add in the cowardly part."

"Can't wait to have some chocolate," said Amber, already anticipating the taste of the delicious, mouth-watering delicacies that were chocolate. "Doesn't matter how old you are. We adults crave things too."

"So true," Patrick agreed. While wrapping his arms farther around her, pulling her in ever so slowly, he went on, "But we crave a lot more than just chocolate and sweets."

"Sure we do," she concurred, bringing her arms around his neck. "That's because we're complicated."

"No arguments there."

She pulled herself closer to him, that spark of familiar, blazing energy igniting between them again. No words needed exchanging, for the words were all too visible in the dancing, flickering flames in their eyes. They'd suddenly forgotten about making their way downstairs for lunch and instead, were too caught up in this shower of hunger. The space between them was soon nonexistent, as their faces drew closer together, a mesmerizing silence settling over them.

Amber closed her eyes, brought her lips to Patrick's and the rush of warmth flooding through her felt stronger than ever. She felt his fingers trailing through her hair and instantly, a delightful shiver shot through her. The two were so engrossed in their own exploding emotions, they didn't even notice that Em had casually and silently re-entered the classroom. She was heading back to her desk, and when she turned her attention to the two occupied teachers, she couldn't help chuckling under her breath.

The instant Patrick heard her, his eyes shot open and he turned to look at her. For Em, the sheer surprise on his face was nothing short of comical.

" _Em_!" he exclaimed, an awkward expression forming on his face. "W-what are you doing?"

"Hey, Mr. Mac," she said coolly. "Just forgot my bag. Can't eat lunch if I don't have it with me."

"Right," he said, sounding completely and hopelessly awkward. "Well, uh…okay."

"Sorry to barge in like that," said Em, walking back to the open doorway, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Amber opened her mouth to answer, but found she'd gone speechless. The spell of awkwardness had swept over her as well. Combined, the looks on their faces was all but hilarious.

After Em had left, Patrick turned back to Amber. Holding back his laughter, he concluded, "We really need to stop kissing like this in public."

* * *

When October thirty-first arrived, many of the students and teachers arrived in costume to celebrate the fun, spooky holiday. There were ghouls and ghosts, superheroes and zombies, pirates, witches and countless others. Decorations were everywhere - carved pumpkins, spiders dangling from the ceiling, oversized cobwebs, skeleton bones scattered in the corners, ghosts lining the walls and countless headstones. To add to the fun, teachers often gave out treats to their classes, while helping themselves of course.

Upon entering the transformed school, Patrick was immediately greeted by Amber, Matt, and Corey.

"And the Cowardly Lion has entered the building!" Matt announced, giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder.

Amber walked up to Patrick, and planted a kiss on his cheek. There was no arguing that he indeed looked like the Cowardly lion, what with the long tail, hairy, golden mane and large paws. But when you looked him square in the face, there was no hiding the fact that it was Patrick Mac.

"Hey, what did you do with Amber?" asked Patrick jokingly. "You look an awful lot like Dorothy."

"What did you do with Patrick?" she teased back, placing a hand on the furry mane. "All I see is a lion!"

"A scared one," said Patrick, covering his eyes. "Don't forget…I'm _cowardly_. I'm probably too scared to make it upstairs!"

"Cowardly indeed," Corey threw in, joining in on the laugh.

"I knew you'd make the perfect lion," Amber told him. She lifted up the large, soft paws, kissed them and then gave Patrick a wink. "Even if you are a cowardly one."

"So you really think I make a good lion?" he asked, following her down the hall.

"Absolutely, one hundred percent yes."

"Well then," said Patrick, taking his hand in hers and continuing down the hall. "It's clear what we ought to do now."

"What's that?"

"Follow the yellow brick road!" was his answer.

* * *

On the first weekend of November, Patrick was spending a Saturday morning out on his balcony with Earnest resting in her usual place on his lap. Down below, people swam in the vast waters, laughing and enjoying themselves as they so often did. Patrick loved spending time out on his balcony, for several reasons. He loved being able to peer down at the multiple levels below that consisted of shops, restaurants, schools and so many places that made living underground so convenient. He'd spent much of his life as a below grounder, but that didn't stop him from frequently wanting to venture aboveground and revisit the world above him.

That was when an idea occurred to him.

Pulling out his comm, he thumbed the screen and scrolled through his list of contacts. Finding who he was searching for, he typed a quick message, hit the send button and returned his attention to the shining lake far below at the bottom of Chelsea. In a few weeks, with the arrival of December and colder temperatures, the lake would once more be frozen to allow for skating. And up above, the grounds would once more undergo their usual transformation from rich green to sparkling white as the blankets of snow fell.

It only took a few minutes for his comm to vibrate in his hand. He read over the message once, quickly replied to it, and then tucked it back in his pocket.

* * *

The following morning, Patrick had woken up especially earlier. His usual routine included waking up at seven and being at Chelsea High by eight to begin teaching. Today however, was Sunday, and he'd arranged a special trip for himself and Amber that required them to be up prior to the rising of the sun.

While in the Bernick Hospital, Patrick had recalled how stunning a sight it was watching the sun make its early rise into the sky. He and Amber had been able to make out the soft streaks of orange that gradually lit up the sleepy sky. It wasn't till yesterday that he'd gotten the idea to witness the rising sun more closely. Having never watched a sunrise up close before, he'd thought now was as perfect a time to do so as any, so he invited Amber along.

Their destination for watching the morning event?

Grand Blossom Park.

As the sun would begin its ascent into the sky at roughly six o'clock, Patrick left the apartment at five-thirty. He didn't mind getting to the park a little early, as there was always plenty to do. More than once he ventured there to watch and feed the birds, who felt much excitement upon seeing the seeds and bread and fruit he'd brought with him. Since he was young, he'd gotten much enjoyment from the field guide his mother had given him, and often brought it with him. So many birds he'd already identified, yet there were still just as many he had yet to stumble across.

Ten minutes later, and he was walking along the quiet, tree-lined trail that led to the beautiful Grand Blossom Park. Several trips there and still it never failed to amaze him how simply peaceful and beautiful a place it was. What with the hundreds of flowers, an endless rainbow of colors met your eyes – ruby reds, ocean blues, sunshine yellows, pearly whites. At the very center was the large lake that dazzled like diamonds, where hungry ducks often waited for people to toss them bits of scrumptious bread.

There was no doubt in Patrick's mind that it was the perfect place to watch the sunrise. Not only that, but there was a great hill that overlooked all the valleys and fields below, allowing one to have the best possible view for watching the rising sun.

After a few minutes of walking, he found himself at the very top. Peering down, it was a breathtaking sight – all the trees, intertwining rivers and colors below that somehow seemed even brighter from above. With his back resting comfortably against a large Elm tree and the whole world below him, he felt this really was one of the most peaceful places around. So quiet and relaxing with nothing but the rustling in the sleepy trees and occasional chirps of birds sailing by overhead.

He was just about to rest his eyes, when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. The first thought that sprang to mind was: that must be Amber. When he turned to see who it was, however, it quickly occurred to him that it wasn't her at all. It was nearing six o'clock, so she should have been on her way, but this newest arrival wasn't Amber. It was somebody else.

The second thing that popped into his now befuddled mind was: _who's that?_


	18. Broken Apart

Upon hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, Patrick's mind had immediately jumped to the assumption that it was Amber arriving. It had to have been her. He'd specifically asked her to join him at Grand Blossom Park up on this towering hilltop at six o'clock to watch the sunrise. And the fact that she'd agreed to meet him there, well of course he naturally assumed it had to be her. Who else would it be?

But the moment he turned his head, it took him all but a second to realize that he couldn't have been more mistaken.

It wasn't Amber at all.

As for who this sudden, unexpected arrival was, Patrick hadn't the slightest idea. The only thing he could think of as he sat there staring at this unfamiliar person was – _stranger._ Of all the teachers at Chelsea High, he'd grown to know most of them very well, but sitting there right then, he'd never encountered this person before. He didn't recognize the face, nor could he recall ever having seen her before, anywhere.

It crossed Patrick's mind that whoever this stranger was, she was someone he'd never stumbled across before. That much he knew for certain. He'd always been good at remembering people. But after the realization that she was undoubtedly no familiar face to him sunk in, the next immediate question arose. What was she doing here?

As for the stranger herself, she was about the same height as Patrick. Her skin was lightly tanned and sitting there taking in the color of her eyes, it occurred to Patrick that only once in his life had he ever recalled seeing such blue eyes before. It was during the funeral of his parents. An unfamiliar man had been standing amongst the crowd and still to this day it hadn't slipped his mind how startlingly blue the guy's eyes had appeared. It was almost unnatural, and more than a little eerie. There was no mistaking that whoever this woman was, the shade of blue in her unblinking eyes was undeniably similar to those he'd looked upon years ago.

Her thick hair was a striking golden blond with noticeable streaks of chestnut brown dispersed throughout. Her tranquil face wore a pleasant, enigmatic smile that only helped to light up her features like it was Christmas morning. A long, flowing white dress hugged her body, falling just below her knees; the color of it looked even whiter than snow itself. It was soft as silk and just at the bottom corner was a large red flower that resembled a rose, only it was brighter and more dazzling than any rose Patrick had ever seen. She wore white flats that shone and sparkled like they were made of a thousand diamonds, brighter and bolder than any one could hope to see. Like the red in the rose on her elegant dress, her lips were redder still but the one, single feature that stood out like white on black was the unusually bright blue of her eyes.

For a moment, the woman did nothing but stand there in perfect silence, keeping her gaze locked on Patrick. Aside from the slight rustling of leaves in the trees above, there wasn't a sound to be heard up on that hilltop. The unbroken silence that now lingered in the air was starting to feel unsettling to Patrick, though he couldn't place why he felt this. No doubt it had something to do with this woman who for whatever reason, had decided to venture up to this very place where she'd find Patrick Mac, who was now faced with a confusion he had yet to unravel.

When she finally spoke, her voice seemed to echo in the air in a way that left Patrick more puzzled still. There was no arguing that her voice was graceful and soothing, but something about the way she looked at him filled Patrick with an unshakeable sense of…suspicion.

"Hello, Patrick," she said, the smile still evident on her face. "Or should I say… _Mr. Mac_." She said this last part with an even bigger smile that was now appearing more like flirting behaviour than anything else.

"I'm sorry, but _who_ exactly are you?" asked Patrick, staring at the woman cautiously.

As if amused, she chuckled softly and answered coolly, "You needn't worry about me. I've been around for so long, traveling here and there. I guess I'm a traveling spirit, I am. I can never stay in just one place. I'm always on the move, going here and there. So many schools I've been to, teaching and imparting my years of wisdom on to the minds of countless students. But never have I seen a teacher as gifted and intelligent as you, Mr. Mac."

Patrick's mind was reeling in utter confusion. What did this woman want from him? It was all too obvious she was flirting, what with the sudden compliments, smiles and shining in her eyes, but that didn't answer the most maddening question. What was she doing here?

"Look, I don't know what you want from me but I'm waiting for someone. She'll be here any—"

"Patrick!" she laughed softly, taking a few steps closer to him. "I know you're not one to boast, but really, can't you look in the mirror and see how truly magnificent a person you are? Your school of Chelsea High well…it wouldn't be nearly half as great as it is if not for all you've contributed over the years. There isn't a doubt in anyone's eyes that of all the teachers there, no one could ever replace the fabulous Mr. Mac."

"I-I still don't understand," he stammered, the puzzlement now showing in his eyes. "W-what do you want? Why are you here?"

"Isn't that obvious?" she asked sweetly, proceeding to draw nearer to him. "To be with _you_ of course!"

Patrick blinked in surprise, and then quickly rose to his feet while backing away from her, drawing closer towards the hilltop's edge.

"Look, I already have a girlfriend," he told her firmly. "And you still haven't answered my first question. _Who_ are you? I've never seen you before. I haven't the slightest idea who you are!"

"Amber," said the woman, her voice hardly audible.

"How do you know so much about me?" Patrick demanded to know. "And how do you know about Amber?"

"Don't act so surprised," she told him, her voice as soft and confident as his was baffled and doubtful. "You can't blame a woman for letting herself grow curious about a certain someone, a certain someone I might add who is unquestionably handsome. Really Patrick, it's nearly impossible to not let myself fall for a man as attractive as yourself. You can't blame me for that…can you?"

"I'm with someone else," he repeated more forcefully. "So I'm sorry, but this just wouldn't work."

The woman dropped her gaze momentarily, letting her eyes fall to the ground for the shortest of seconds. Then, she redirected her eyes back on Patrick's, but this time, the blue in her eyes seemed to flash with an unexplainable intensity.

"You just don't get it, do you?" she asked, her voice now eerily quiet.

"Don't get what?" he asked.

"She's no good for you, Patrick," the woman declared, taking a few steps closer. She was now close enough to Patrick that she could stare even deeper into the brown of his eyes, as if unlocking secrets. "Someone as accomplished, knowledgeable and skilled as yourself, well…she's just out of your league. You deserve better than her."

"You don't know anything about me!" he shot back. "I've never loved anyone like I do Amber. She's everything I've ever wanted."

"Yet she's nowhere near good enough for you," the woman countered, a smirk forming on her face. "She's but a mere child, so unworthy to have a man as wonderful as yourself in her life. A man like you deserves so much more. You've been blinded, Patrick. But I can help you with that. I can help you open your eyes and see all you've been missing, and all you truly deserve. I'm afraid to say that Amber Norm just isn't part of that."

Patrick stared at the woman for a long moment, and then said with absolute certainty, "I don't know who you are or what you want, but you couldn't be more wrong. Amber's everything I ever wanted."

"Yet she's no good for you," the woman argued, not losing her cool for even a second.

"What do you want?" Patrick finally asked, the annoyance now creeping into his voice.

"My dear," she said softly, the blue in her eyes seeming to blaze like shimmering fire. "Don't let the poor girl try and fool you. You're much too smart for that. A man such as yourself deserves nothing less than the very best…and I can give you that."

"You're a stranger!" Patrick argued, backing away. "And if you think I don't know you're up to something, then you're mistaken. If your plan is to split Amber and I apart, then you'd never succeed."

Ignoring his comment, the woman then asked him, "Tell me, Patrick…do you find Amber _beautiful_?"

"Incredibly beautiful."

"And what about her, may I ask, do you believe to be beautiful about her?"

"Everything," was Patrick's simple, confident answer.

"I see," said the woman, staring him over with increased curiosity, and a touch of slyness. "Yet I'm sure you can't deny that she is nowhere near the level of beauty that I possess?"

"Beauty is subjective," he shot back, sounding as confident and sure of himself as if he were back at Chelsea High teaching.

"Oh, is it?" she said, circling him like a cunning fox. "Tell me, Patrick, why on Earth do you find a girl as imperfect and flawed as Amber Norm more beautiful than a goddess like myself? She can't give you all that I can? She can't make your life as perfect as I could? Why settle for _flawed_ when you can have _flawless_?"

"She's perfect," Patrick went on, glaring at the woman. "Perfect to _me_."

"I heard what you did for her," said the woman, once more bringing her gaze to Patrick's. "Laid down your life to save her and so many others. Such an act of unselfish love that was. You must really care for her."

Patrick didn't respond. His mind was racing in too many directions to focus on all she was saying. What did this woman want from him? It was clear that she was up to something devious, and no doubt it involved himself and Amber. But why? Why did she care to slither her way into his life like this? How did she even know him? And Amber? And what did it all mean anyway?

"I don't know what you want from me," Patrick said after a long, uncomfortable pause. "But Amber and I are perfect happy together, so if your plan was to try and break us apart, then that's not going to happen. I just—"

"You've no idea how lonely it is sometimes," she interrupted quietly, dropping her eyes to the ground. "Especially when your boyfriend leaves you for someone he finds more superior and attractive than yourself. You don't know what that's like, do you?"

"Look, I'm sorry," said Patrick. "I am, really. But this has nothing to do with Amber and I. You said all those things about Amber, but she means everything to me. So I'm sorry if you're looking for someone, but I'm just not that person."

"Yet how can you be certain of that?" she questioned.

Patrick stared at her for a brief moment, and said resolutely, "I came here to watch a sunrise with Amber. We're not looking for trouble, so if you'd kindly leave the two of us alone, then—"

"She's not right for you, Mr. Mac," the woman purred, her voice taking on a darker, yet eerily calm tone. "You're too good for her."

Patrick felt his head might burst out of frustration and confusion. It seemed no matter what he said, this woman still wished to change his way of thinking. But if she really was searching for love, why was she so fixated on him? He didn't even know her! She was a stranger! The two had never even met, yet somehow she seemed to know things about him. Too many questions rushed into his head, making it that much harder to think clearly.

"I'm perfectly happy with Amber," Patrick told her, her eyes seeming to burrow into his thoughts. "There's plenty of other men around, so…so please leave us be."

"So polite," the woman remarked, giggling. "So intelligent, resourceful, handsome and…and incredibly special. Aren't you?"

"I already told you!" Patrick shot back, his voice now very well nearing a shout. "I'm _not_ interested!"

"I don't believe you," she uttered, her eyes flaring. "Why hide from what your heart says?"

"What the hell do you want from me?" Patrick said quietly. Hardly realizing what he was doing, he felt his feet moving of their own will and next thing he knew, he'd just grown a few feet closer to the edge of the hill. Glancing down, it now dawned on him how truly high up he was. Tumbling over the edge from this height would be treacherous.

"Don't get angry, Patrick," the woman whispered. Her eyes shifted to the valleys and fields far below but just as quickly, they were focused once more on the muddled teacher. "How can you get angry with a woman when all that's happened is she's fallen for you? What's so wrong about that? I'm not looking for trouble. I just can't seem to ignore where my heart's lead me."

"So basically, you followed me up here to harass me?"

"Why would you ever think that?" she asked, not in the least bit thrown by the comment. "I haven't hurt you, have I?"

"You certainly aren't leaving me alone," he shot back, staring down at the numerous fields of green. "Maybe I ought to call someone. Unless you'd rather leave now and there'll be no trouble."

"So stubborn you are," she sighed. "You just don't understand a woman do you? Surely you know when one has their heart set on someone, there's no turning back from that. It's better just to…follow it."

"I should be going," said Patrick suddenly. He'd made up his mind that no matter what he said or did, it was clear this woman didn't agree with him. No, it was like she was so strangely stubborn and insistent upon changing his mind. It didn't matter that he went on explaining that he and Amber were already together; she didn't care!

That was why he planned on leaving. If she didn't plan on leaving him alone, then the only thing that made sense was to take off and if she proceeded to follow him, well…then there were plenty of ways to ensure she didn't follow him around and carry on harassing him. It wouldn't take long to determine how she'd react. Would she ultimately leave him alone? Or would she continue her attempt at snatching him up for herself while kicking Amber to the sidelines?

The plan was to walk off, hope she didn't follow and watch the sunrise elsewhere. Yes, that's all he'd need to do. Surely she'd realize she'd bound to fall into trouble should she go on pursuing him.

As for the woman, however, it was like she had unseen eyes in the back of her head. Before Patrick could even turn to make his way down the hill, a change of expression crossed her face. Gone was the calm, enigmatic look in her eyes. Now in its place was a look that could only be described as sheer and utter triumph. While Patrick had made it all too clear that he wasn't interested, there wasn't a hint of defeat or envy in her sparkling eyes. Instead, they seemed to brighten and shine with growing wickedness. Both corners of her lips turned upward, a scheming grin spreading across her face. The soft-spoken woman with the dazzling eyes and song-like voice was no more.

In those few seconds, it was like she'd become a different person entirely.

While Patrick didn't know it, two things were about to unfold that he wouldn't have anticipated. Not only were they two occurrences that would leave him completely shocked and rattled, but the time it took for both to occur was almost instantaneous. In a way, it was like an invisible hand had reached out and fast-forwarded time when it had been frozen or previously on pause.

At the time, Patrick didn't know how terribly shaken the two events would leave him, but he was about to.

He was just turning to start down the hill, but it didn't occur to him that this woman – this unidentified, nameless person – was much faster than himself. He'd barely taken two steps forward before she drew closer, all without speaking even a single word. It wouldn't have mattered even then if he tried bolting down the hill, for she was just too quick for that. His speed just couldn't compete with hers and because of that, he wasn't able to pry himself loose. With lightning speed, she dashed forward and wrapping an arm around him, pulled him in so close, their faces were only inches apart. But she didn't stop there. She now had him in her grasp, and she wasn't letting go. There was no time to even process what was happening. Time seemed to be speeding by in a startling, overwhelming blur. The next thing Patrick's spiralling mind registered was the feeling of her pressing her body into his, and then…her lips crashing onto his.

A few seconds. A few simple seconds was all it took for it all to come crashing down in a way Patrick wouldn't have expected. Of all the things he could have hoped to see on that early morning, he never could have foreseen what was about to happen next. When he thought ahead to this morning, his mind had brought up the stunning sight of the rising sun as it lit up the sky like a magical, colorful display. Nowhere in his mind had he seen anything that would have left him fearing the whole morning had drastically shifted course and was now all but an aching, unforgiving nightmare.

But as he almost immediately realized, that was now exactly what was happening.

This was no longer a quiet morning that was meant to be an enjoyable time between two people.

No, it was now plunging into what Patrick could only fear was a nightmare.

The only thing that kept it from truly being a nightmare was the fact that he was awake. He wasn't back in his bed back home in the underground complex of Chelsea. He was up on the towering hilltop at Grand Blossom Park but right then, he suddenly wished he were anywhere else but there.

It was a single, unexpected voice that cut through the silence like nails scraping on chalkboard. Like rumbling thunder in a sleeping sky or a screeching beast in the dead of night, the voice broke through the silence and shot a rush of unnerving fear through his body. It couldn't have startled him any more than if a gust of wind had forced him over the edge of the hill and sent him plummeting to the depths.

It was _her_ voice.

It was a voice he'd come to know well over the past few weeks and right then, he knew exactly what emotions were contained in it. He didn't need to look in her eyes to already see the emotions that were written on her face. It couldn't have been any more obvious than if a hand had lashed out and slapped him square across the face.

He knew too well what was now about to unfold.

What he couldn't wrap his head around was the fact that it was happening at all.

" _P-Patrick_?"

The moment he heard her voice, he didn't want to turn and face her directly. Already he could detect the unmistakable confusion and shock in her voice, but no doubt it was all the more visible on her face, and in her eyes especially. He didn't want to turn and face her for so many reasons, but there was no climbing out of the bottomless pit he'd now been shoved into. He was trapped but no matter how deep a hole he now sat in, he simply had to try and climb his way out of it, in spite of how impossible it seemed.

But when he turned to face her, it struck him just how hopeless a situation he'd wound up in. One look at her face, and there was no mistaking that his chances at escaping this unfortunate mess were less than slim. In the time he'd known Amber, not once had Patrick seen her look so terribly lost. So many emotions swam in her unblinking eyes and even more were racing like wildfire in her heart.

Before he could utter a word, he heard soft, amused laughter. Upon hearing it, it wasn't long till it occurred to him that hearing that laugh lit him up with an anger he hadn't felt in a very long time.

"You set me up," he whispered, the truth now dawning on him. It took him a few seconds to put the pieces together, and then in a much louder voice, he declared with frustration, "You _knew_ what you were doing!"

The woman's response was only to laugh again, as if the whole event was all but humorous to her.

"Really, Patrick," she told him. She averted her gaze briefly to Amber, but then quickly returned her attention to Patrick. "Why try and lie to her? Why hide from the truth when it's staring her right in the face? Just tell her."

"There's nothing to tell!" he shot back, stepping away from her. "You set me up! You _wanted_ this to happen."

He then grew silent, while letting his eyes fall on Amber, who still hadn't yet said a word. He tried hard to study the emotions in her eyes but she appeared more like a lifeless statue than anything else.

Finally, after what felt like a painful lifetime, she spoke.

"I don't understand," she whispered, so quietly that Patrick barely heard it.

"I can't make sense of it either," said Patrick, not removing his gaze from hers. "I was up here waiting for you, when someone I don't even know comes out of nowhere and tries to—"

That was when she cut him off. Like piercing knives in his heart, she spoke the few words that stunned him speechless.

"I don't understand why you're _lying_ to me," she said in a choking voice.

Patrick blinked in surprise, and opened his mouth to answer, but found no words to answer with. It was now coming full circle. Whatever it was this stranger's plan had been, it was achingly clear that she'd succeeded completely. Like a silent snake, she'd slithered her way into his morning and now with Amber in the picture, she'd lunged and bit him where it hurt the most – the heart.

"Amber, I…I'm not lying to you!" said Patrick, struggling to get the words out. The more she spoke, the harder it became for him to form a response, as there was no hiding from the fact that she was upset. Though to say she was just upset was an understatement.

"I…I don't get it," she went on, shaking her head. She paused, and then asked him in a daze, "How could you do this?"

"Amber, listen," Patrick pleaded. He felt like he was drowning, and fighting to keep from getting sucked beneath a violent and unforgiving sea of darkness. "You have to trust me when I tell you I'd never—"

"What?" the woman interjected, her voice sounding more like a satisfied purr. "Fall in love with somebody else? There's nothing to be ashamed of. It just…happened"

"H-how long?" Amber asked, not sure if she was speaking to Patrick or the stranger.

"How long we've been together?" the woman asked, as if reading her mind. "A few months now. I still remember when I first visited Chelsea High. How could I forget? It was the day I met Patrick. We got talking and well, everything else just fell into place. Maybe he felt something towards you, sweetie, but…Patrick and I just couldn't be happier together. Maybe you're just not his type."

"You wanted this, didn't you?" asked Patrick, having to fight to keep his fiery emotions from exploding. "You knew I was waiting for her and what a coincidence Amber walks up to see you kissing me and..." he grew silent, closed his eyes and then shot back, "And you're nothing but a liar! You just show up out of nowhere and think you can, can…just destroy my life? What do want from me? What did I ever do to you? I don't even know you!"

The woman chuckled, and then turned to face Amber.

"I know you're upset, Patrick," she replied, sending Amber a slight, innocent smile. "But I think you've got some explaining to do. If you like this girl as much as you say you do, then I guess I'll just have to find someone else. I will if that's what you'd prefer. But I'll never find a guy quite like you… _Pat_."

Amber stared at the woman for the longest time, her mouth having gone entirely dry. She remembered Patrick telling her how he hated being called Pat. But he'd told her he didn't really mind when she called him that, and so ever since, she'd done just that. She hadn't heard anyone else call him Pat…until then. So many racing, screaming emotions fought for space inside her head; it was so overwhelmingly cluttered that she hardly knew what to think of it all.

Patrick kept a steely gaze on the liar, his head in so many places that he feared he might topple over. Without a word, he then reached into the pocket of his pants, and a bewildered look came over his face. He quickly reached into his other pocket, and then realized he'd forgotten his comm at home.

The one thought that popped to mind was: _How on earth did I forget my comm?_

"What?" she asked him, chuckling calmly. "Can't call for help? You're quite the actor. Why put on an act, Patrick? Just tell her the truth. She deserves at least that, doesn't she? So you love two different women. Okay, now all that's left is for you to choose."

Patrick was so overcome with emotion now that he had to hold back with great difficulty from erupting.

"Get away from me," he concluded, his eyes fixed on the ground.

"Fine, if that's what you want," she said with a sigh. "But you still ought to—"

"I said get away from me!" Patrick demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.

With perfect silence, the blond-haired woman then smiled one last time and gradually started making her way…somewhere. But before leaving them, she made sure to lock eyes with Amber one last time, the color and sparkle in them appearing so much brighter and stronger than ever. A few minutes later, she'd then vanished in the woods, leaving the two teachers alone on that now eerily soundless hilltop.

Now that the two were completely alone, Patrick felt more awkward and uncomfortable then he had just moments ago. There was no erasing what Amber had just witnessed; the difficult part would be trying to prove that what she'd seen wasn't what it looked like. But from her perspective, how could she think it was anything other than what it did look like? To stumble upon some woman she'd never even met kissing Patrick – all while with her arms wrapped around him – it was nearly impossible to think it was anything else than what her heart was telling her.

As they stood there still in silence, Patrick searched his mind desperately, scrambling to find the right words to say to her. What could he say to her? How could he possibly convince her that what her eyes had seen wasn't what she thought it was? There had to be a way to undo what had just been done, but if there was, Patrick was coming up horribly empty.

"So," Amber finally said, her eyes staring blankly ahead. It was like he was no longer in her field of vision. All she could do was stare ahead at seemingly nothing. "Seems like you've been busy."

"Amber, I know what you're thinking," said Patrick softly. "You see some other woman kissing me and it looks like I'm with her, but you have to believe me."

"About what?" she asked, still unable to meet his gaze.

"When I tell you that I _don't_ know her," he explained, struggling to keep his voice calm and in control. "I came up here and was waiting for you, and then she showed up out of nowhere, and…and kept saying things that didn't make sense. I'd never seen her before, yet she kept going on like she _did_ know me. I-I just didn't get it. Why would a stranger, someone I'd never met before, find me and start talking like that? I've never been more confused but I think maybe it might have to do with what happened at school. Something's going on. I don't know what, but I can't think of anything else. First a guy shows up at the school, and now some woman comes and finds me and…I don't know what she wanted, but it wasn't good. Maybe the two are connected, I don't know. I can't make sense of any of it, but I promise you it isn't what it looks like."

Would she believe it? After what she'd just seen, would she be able to push aside the image of someone else locking lips with him and place her trust in him? Patrick felt his pounding heart might leap out of his chest, but all he could do was stand there and patiently wait. As baffled as he was, what else could he say to her? It would all come down to how Amber responded, and if she believed what he was telling her.

"I can't wrap my head around it," she said, more to herself than to Patrick.

"I can't either," Patrick told her, but only seconds after he'd spoken was he quickly cut off. What he next heard made him wish the clouds would unleash a torrential storm and a thousand drops of rain that would come crashing down upon him.

"No, I can't wrap my head around why you'd _do_ this," she shot back. She'd now lifted her gaze to settle them on Patrick's. In an instant, it occurred to Patrick that she was dangerously close to crying.

"But I—" Patrick started.

"No!" she argued, biting her lip. "You can't try and tell me it isn't what it looks like, Patrick! I'm not an idiot. I know what I saw. You…" and then she couldn't hold back the tears that came sliding down her cheeks as she whispered numbly, "You've been cheating on me."

When he ran those words over in his mind, he didn't want to believe what he was hearing.

_You've been cheating on me._

Patrick's mind was reeling. It was shooting this way and that, speeding in so many directions that he wondered how he'd ever gain Amber's trust again? There'd be no way of wiping out what she'd just seen. She'd always remember watching as some unfamiliar woman held Patrick and kissed him as if she'd kissed him countless times before. Of course he wasn't a cheater, but how could she be expected to think that after what she'd just seen?

"Amber, I would _never_ cheat on you," said Patrick gently. A large lump was forming in his throat, but that didn't stop him from trying to mend together the broken pieces of this misunderstanding. "You know that."

"I know what I just saw," she muttered. She wiped her eyes and went on, "And yet you're still trying to convince me that that was nothing! She kissed you, Patrick! How can you tell me that was nothing?"

Patrick dropped his gaze to the ground, unable to form a response. So many questions rushed to mind, yet still he couldn't make sense of how this had all unfolded. No matter the case, he couldn't keep from bringing the blame upon himself.

 _I should have left_ , he thought in crushing defeat. _I could have left and…maybe she wouldn't have followed me. I should have remembered to bring my comm. How could I have forgotten to bring it? I always have my comm! Maybe it is all my fault. I was so confused, but I...I should have left. Now she'll never trust me again._

"You don't believe me," Patrick whispered, not wanting to accept what his aching heart told him.

"Can you blame me?" she shouted. She'd been fighting to keep her emotions from spilling out, but no longer could she contain them. "Here I expect to find you waiting for me, and what do I find? You locking lips with some other woman who says you've been together for months? Kind of hard to think it's not what it looks like, Patrick!"

"But it's _not_!" he argued, swallowing hard. "Amber, I swear to you there's nothing between us. I've never seen her before! I don't even know her name! Until today, I'd never seen her before! I know lots of teachers from other schools, but I'd never met her before. It's like she…she came out of nowhere. Amber, she wanted this to happen. She wanted you to find us and think I was using you, but I'd never do that. Please…you _have_ to trust me."

After a few minutes of remaining silent, Amber responded with, "I'm sorry, but…I just can't buy that."

"Please, Amber," Patrick begged, his voice now unsteady and faltering. "I would never lie to you." He took a breath, felt a single tear trickle down his face and uttered quietly, " _I love you_."

"I don't," she blurted out, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her shirt.

"Don't what?" asked Patrick fretfully.

" _Love_ you!" she shouted, letting the rush of anger, confusion and disbelief wash over her in a tremendous, heavy wave. "I don't love you anymore! Maybe I did at one time, but that was when I thought I knew you. I thought I could trust you. I thought you were different. That you were someone special. But I was wrong. I was wrong since the day I met you. I didn't think you were like that, but yet here I find you with some other woman that you never even mentioned to me! Here all this time you led me to think you cared about me when you've just been messing around and…and taking advantage of me!"

Patrick watched her with despairing eyes, fearing that his entire world was now crashing down with no hopes of rebuilding itself.

"Amber, I would _never_ do that to you," he said, though feeling like his efforts were now but in vain.

"You're not the Patrick I knew," she went on, keeping her eyes on his. "The man I knew wouldn't have gone and did what you just did. Here all this time you told me you'd never been kissed before yet it seems like you've been doing a whole lot of that. Here I let myself trust you, yet here's where I find you. Sharing yourself with someone else."

Unsure of what to say or how to react, Patrick slowly and hesitantly took a few steps towards her, but Amber shot him a hurtful look that stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Stay away from me," was all she said.

Patrick lowered his gaze, the pain of her words cutting through him one painful word at a time.

"I don't want to see you anymore," she concluded, her eyes now red from the river of tears.

"But, Amber," Patrick offered softly. The look he then gave her was filled with such sadness, that for a moment, she almost wondered if somewhere inside him was the truth. "I…I took a bullet for you. It was a miracle I survived but miracle or not, I gladly would have _died_ for you. I didn't even try to run off or escape. I just wanted you and everyone safe." The two then locked eyes in one intense moment as he told her softly, "I'd do it all over again if it meant keeping you safe."

This made Amber pause and think for a moment. There was no forgetting what Patrick had done for her and so many others. In the face of living terror, he'd taken it upon himself to ensure that the harm fell upon him and nobody else. Though he knew he would likely die, that didn't stop him from doing what he needed to do – protecting those he cared about. Never in her life had someone done something like that, and all to ensure that she was kept out of harm's way. It was the bravest thing she'd ever seen, and she knew it was a selfless act she'd never forget. No, she'd never forget what Patrick did for her, but she couldn't ignore her wounded heart.

"I know what you did," she said after an awfully long pause. "But…I just can't—"

"Do you trust me?" asked Patrick, keeping his voice calm.

"I used to," she told him with a shrug. "Till now."

"Then _please_ trust me now," he implored. "I know it's hard to think it isn't what you think, but you know something strange has been going on. There's something happening that I can't explain, and I'm pretty sure this has something to do with it. There's someone out there wanting to hurt us, Amber. Wanting to hurt me. I've no idea why, but what happened here is part of it. They want to hurt you. They want to push us apart."

Instead of answering, Amber went on staring at the ground. What thoughts were racing through her mind, Patrick could only guess. No doubt she was fighting off so many emotions – fear, confusion, anger and doubt – and she was the only one who could figure them all out.

"I'm sorry but I…I just don't believe you," she said shakily. "Maybe at one time you loved me, but when I see you with another woman, it's kind of hard to try and convince myself there's nothing more going on. She seemed to know who you were and I'm pretty sure if I hadn't shown up, it would have turned into more than just a kiss."

"Amber, please don't—"

"Stop!" she shouted, taking a few steps back. "I…I don't want to see you anymore. I don't care what you say, I don't want anything to do with you."

"What can I say to make you believe me?" he asked her sadly, his head hanging in defeat.

She looked back at him and said coldly, " _Nothing_. I saw _all_ I needed to see."

Not in a long time had Patrick felt a sense of such utter and total defeat. Soon, it would all but consume him. It was clear there was nothing more he could say to her. Nothing he could say would change how she felt. No, her mind was made up and there wasn't anything Patrick could say to stop the inevitable.

"Have fun with your new girlfriend," Amber said, the words catching in her throat. She then turned and started down the hill without once turning back to look at the floundering teacher.

"I'm not a liar, Amber!" he called out futilely. "I'd never lie to you."

She stopped for a fleeting moment, but then kept walking, not wanting to look back. There was no reason to. What was back there – nothing but pain?

"It's _over_ ," was all she said. A few minutes later, she vanished out of sight. Gone was the one woman Patrick had ever come to love and understand why so many sought it.

Her words repeated themselves in his aching mind. _It's over._

He refused to believe it was over. It couldn't be. Such a simple misunderstanding couldn't possibly keep them together, not after how close they'd grown, could it? Such a bond had forged between them over the weeks they'd shared together, yet it was becoming frighteningly possible that those days would become a thing of the past.

What Patrick couldn't seem to wrap his head around was how unbelievably quickly it had all happened. One moment he was waiting for Amber so the two could watch the rising sun together. The next, she was telling him she no longer wanted anything to do with him. What he'd thought was going to be a lovely morning had rapidly turned itself into a horrid nightmare.

"She's gone," he whispered to himself.

The numbness of it all was quickly overtaking him, and he didn't know how to keep from falling to his knees. How could this have happened? After his miraculous recovery from the Bernick Hospital, Patrick felt sure things might finally return to normal. Yet just as quickly, he found himself standing alone on a hilltop, feeling hopelessly alone, as if he were the only person in the world.

* * *

For the next few hours, Patrick remained on that lonely hilltop, sitting beneath a large Elm tree with his eyes staring out at the slowly rising sun. For the longest time, it felt like his eyes were staring ahead at nothing at all. While there was so much to see in those early morning hours, still his vacant eyes took in nothing at all. For what felt like forever, he just couldn't keep from repeating all the things Amber had said to him over in his flustered mind.

_I don't want to see you anymore._

_I saw all I needed to see._

_You've been cheating on me._

While watching the growing orange in the sky, he couldn't shake off how she now felt about him. Up till now, she had seen him as a friend, lover and shoulder to lean on whenever she needed. Now, all that had been shattered into a hundred pieces.

In her eyes, he was no longer the same teacher she'd grown to adore.

He was a _liar._

A _cheater._

As Patrick sat there dwelling on what she'd said to him, he couldn't recall a time when he'd felt so hurt. So broken. Of course he wasn't a liar and would never do anything to harm her, but after what she'd seen, it was hard to convince her of the truth. Her heart was racing in too many directions, and he knew he couldn't entirely blame her for that. Her greatest weakness was dealing with her own emotions, but more than that, there was something that hurt more than anything else.

In spite of his efforts to clarify things for her, still she _hadn't_ trusted him.

After believing their relationship had blossomed enough to where they could fully trust the other, it struck him that he'd been mistaken.

Though it pained him to admit it, he couldn't deny it.

No matter what he'd said to her, in the end, she hadn't trusted him. The image of that woman kissing him had blurred all thoughts she'd once had of him. It was like she'd been shown a Patrick Mac she hadn't yet seen before. All thoughts she'd once had of him had been turned inside out entirely.

Whatever the case, Patrick knew there was no escaping what tomorrow would bring. And the day after that, and every other day to come.

Whatever his future held for him, Amber Norm wasn't going to be a part of it.

As the sun made its way up into the sky, Patrick hardly noticed the gradual, gorgeous shifting of colours that looked like a painting. With his mind a million miles away, he barely noticed the soft, stunning shades of orange and red that melted together seamlessly while lighting up the sky. Already it felt like forever ago when he'd asked Amber if she wanted to sit up on this very hill and watch the sunrise with him. So many ways it felt like a lifetime ago, yet it was only a few hours ago when he'd first risen out of bed to start the day.

It wasn't till much later – around lunchtime – that he finally stood up, his eyes still staring out at the gleaming sun. Every inch of his body felt like it had been sleeping, but after a few minutes, slowly and surely he felt his body reawakening. Though he could have sat there for hours more watching the sky, he forced himself to head back to his apartment. What he would do once there, he hadn't the slightest idea.

While making his way through the woods, however, he stumbled upon an alarming sight. He'd only been walking for about five minutes when his eyes took in the sight of what looked like…a body. It was upon closer inspection that he realized it was a woman's body. But more strangely, it was just hours ago that he'd seen this woman.

It was the woman that had successfully managed to push Amber out of his life.

But what had happened to her? Had she been murdered? Had she simply dropped dead? There were no visible wounds, so it didn't appear that she'd been murdered, but there was no telling for sure. He'd never know, but it gave him the strangest feeling seeing her now lying dead in the woods when just hours ago she'd been stirring up nothing but trouble. It didn't make sense. Nothing about that day was making even the slightest bit of sense.

It was seeing her motionless body that he knew for certain something had to be going on. He still had yet to uncover who was behind all this, but there was no arguing that someone out there was plotting all of this. It was the only explanation he could come up with.

He wondered if he was somehow going crazy, but dismissed that idea. No, something bigger was brewing, but he had yet to make sense of it all.

Feeling uncomfortably alone, he continued his way through the woods, though moving at a considerably faster pace than before.

He suddenly wanted to be back home in his apartment.

* * *

As he hurried towards home, Patrick wasn't aware of what had been watching him closely from the treetops above. Perched comfortably on one of the branches of a large Oak tree was a giant raven, black as night with eyes the brightest shade of blue you'd ever see. It had been silently observing the young teacher and had witnessed the whole scene of he and Amber's relationship falling to pieces…because he himself had orchestrated the entire event. It never could have entered Patrick's mind that the one man behind it all had in fact taken the form of that young woman and trapped him like a hungry wolf on its prey.

While the woman herself had been dead since the previous day, that didn't stop the plotting stranger from undergoing his latest disguise.

 _Well, that couldn't have worked out any better_ , the bird thought victoriously. _Here Patrick though it might be the end of it all when it's only just beginning. And so the plot thickens. Now things get interesting._

By now, Patrick was entirely out of sight, and entering the underground complex of Chelsea.

 _You healed and survived_ , the raven thought, its eyes blazing even brighter. _But did you really think I was done with you? You surprised me with your act of selfless courage, but let's see how you handle this latest challenge. Let's see how you do with the woman you love now out of your life._

As it leaped off the branch and took to the sky, it thought: _good luck getting her back, Teacher. Though I'll enjoy watching you try._

* * *

Back in her own apartment, Amber felt the day couldn't have been dragging by any more slowly. Since arriving home, she'd been spending a good deal of time sitting on the couch staring at the wall, as if trying to sort out the hundred thoughts bouncing around in her head. Aside from that, she'd been unable to keep the tears from falling but that didn't stop her from forcing herself to try and keep busy.

She watched T.V., but with no interest at all in the various channels or shows.

She read a book, but read over the words like they weren't even there.

She did some sketching, but her heart just wasn't in it.

She did some cooking, but the food tasted bland and flavorless.

In spite of her efforts to keep busy, she just couldn't shake loose what she'd seen that morning. It was seared in her brain, and no matter how much she tried distracting her thoughts, it was all but futile.

It was when night had fallen and she was crawling into bed that she felt the familiar vibrating of her comm in her pocket. Pulling it out, she read the screen and saw it was from the last person she wanted to speak to right then. She stared at the words for the longest time, as if attempting to make sense of them, but ultimately she ignored them.

It was from Patrick. The message read: _Amber, please believe me when I tell you that I'm not lying to you. I'm sorry if I what I told you didn't make sense, but I'm not even sure myself how to explain it. I don't even understand who she is or what she wanted, but she wanted to push us apart. I'm sure of that. The last thing I want is to lose you. I care so much about you. Please believe me._

After reading it over one more time, Amber's response was to delete the message, scroll through her contacts…and erase Patrick's number from her phone.

In her own mind, she'd already sent him a message, though not through her phone. It was a silent, secret message that only she could hear.

It was: _I don't believe you._

With that, she settled into bed, closed her eyes…and remained awake the rest of the night while staring up at the ceiling.


	19. Off to Hawaii!

Despite the faint light of the morning sun attempting to shine through the closed curtains of his bedroom window, Patrick couldn’t find it in himself to get out of bed. Not just yet, anyway. Up till then, feeling the warmth of the sun’s beaming rays was just one of the many things one looked forward to when starting a new day. That, followed by a trip aboveground amongst the grassy hills, crisp and refreshing air or a stroll throughout the underground complexes all helped make each and every day great for those living in Chelsea.

But not today.

With his head still cushioned against the cottony pillows, he slowly shifted his gaze upward. So badly he wanted to feel that familiar sense of energy and purpose, knowing it was another day of academic learning and knowledge. Instead, all that filled his head was a tremendously heavy sense of emptiness, confusion and sadness. On top of that, there was no stopping the barrage of unrelenting questions that spread through his ringing brain like wild fire.

_How could this have happened?_

_Can I fix this?_

_Is this really the end?_

_Am I just dreaming it all?_

But the one, single question that seemed to nag at his throbbing head more so than any other was: _why us?_

Why was it that he and Amber – two simple high school teachers of Chelsea High – had been sucked into this unexplainable, unfortunate mess? Prior to yesterday, the two had been growing closer with each day and if not for what had taken place only hours ago, no doubt their love still would have been growing strong, left untouched and unshattered.

But that wasn’t the way things turned out.

As much as it hurt Patrick to have to accept the unavoidable truth, how could he when it tugged at his heart so strongly? No, there was no denying the reality that had now become his. His life had just been rattled and turned upside down and inside out in such a way that he wondered how he would ever return to his old life, what with how much he’d grown to love the new one? He hadn’t the slightest clue how, but there was no choice. This was now his life, whether he liked it or not.

So with a great deal of effort, he forced himself sit up, stretched and looked once more to his bedroom window. Normally, he looked forward to another day teaching at Chelsea High. He loved his work, liked his students, but today was different. The enthusiastic spark that had always existed inside seemed to be fading. Gone was the eagerness that had been with him since he’d first realized he wanted to become a teacher. Now he felt that cold, air of loneliness that he was no stranger to.

Glancing to the clock on his bedside table, he saw he had an hour till classes started. Patrick was an orderly kind of guy, and more than once he could make it from home to classes in twenty minutes as casually as if he had all the time in the world. Yet today, he felt as if he could stay resting in bed till the sun had set.

But despite his own troubles, he wasn’t about to let that come between he and his students.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t help pondering and reflecting as he went about his Monday morning.

“It doesn’t make sense,” he said out loud, staring down dazedly at his spoon. He was sitting at the kitchen table, a bowl of cereal in front of him, but not feeling as hungry as he usually felt. “How can this feel so much like a nightmare, yet still be real?”

Across from him, Earnest hopped up to her usual spot in the chair opposite him, giving him that familiar look that always said: I’m hungry.

Patrick sighed, unable to keep from replaying yesterday over and over in his mind. “I just don’t get it, Earnest. One minute we’re together and everything’s fine, the next…she never wants to see me again. I just don’t understand.”

Earnest meowed in response, while pawing at the tablecloth repeatedly. Patrick could never tell whether she did this simply to tell him again how hungry she was, or if she wanted to play. Today, it was like he wasn’t able to register anything other than the countless reminders in his own head.

“And that other person,” he went on, his mountain of confusion only escalating. “That makes even less sense! Why would she have just gone and killed herself? Nothing about what happened makes even a bit of sense. We’d never even met, yet she acted like we had, and…and it really doesn’t matter now. It doesn’t matter what happened. Amber hates me now because of it.”

He spent the next thirty minutes eating, pondering and worrying about what else might arise as a result of yesterday. He felt things couldn’t possibly get any worse but as there was no way of predicting the future, could it be that things hadn’t yet reached their worst?

Rather than sit there dwelling on the matter, he packed up his bag, walked out the door and made his way down the hall towards the elevator. It was now time to focus ahead on today’s lessons. Though he was hurting in more ways than he could have imagined, he had to try and not let Patrick Mac – the Patrick Mac Chelsea High knew so well – leave them.

But as the elevator made its way downward, he couldn’t have anticipated just how difficult a challenge that was going to prove to be.

As he was stepping through the entrance doors, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Naturally, he turned to look and upon seeing who it was, he felt like his hand had just become glued to the door. He thought he was seeing things – but he wasn’t, of course.

Approaching the front doors was Amber, her eyes not even taking in the sight of Patrick. It didn’t matter that he stood only a few feet away from her; she refused to let her gaze shift in his direction. Instead, she kept them focused on the entrance doors and without so much as a, “hello”, kept on walking.

As awkward as he felt, Patrick reached out to hold the door open for her, but quickly realized his efforts were for nothing. Without breaking stride, Amber entered through the door next to him and continued on into the school, all without uttering a single word to him.

Patrick stared down at the ground for a few seconds, then said quietly, “You’re welcome.”

With the fear that it was going to be a long and heavy-sort of day, he stepped inside and headed straight for his classroom on the third floor.

“Morning everyone,” Patrick announced, setting his leather satchel down on his desk. As he quickly rummaged through the wooden cabinets, his students all watched him, each wearing a different expression on their faces. Some observed him with looks of curiosity, as it wasn’t often Mr. Mac appeared so rushed. They were used to seeing the calm, confident teacher that spoke with sureness and passion. Still others watched him with puzzlement, as if this newest wrinkle in their academic lives didn't quite make sense.

Only Em Stickler stared at Mr. Mac with an expression of distinct pity. While the others felt confused and a little thrown off by their teacher’s unusual presentation, only Em saw deeper into the racing emotions in his eyes. Something was most definitely off, and though she couldn’t say for sure, she felt she might have some clue as to what it involved.

When he finally found the sheets he was looking for, Patrick hurriedly placed them on his desk, read them over quickly and asked, “Okay, did everyone complete the research task for today’s class?”

For a moment, no one said anything. Most exchanged looks of confused silence, till Em raised her hand.

“Yes Em?” Patrick asked.

“Um…you didn’t give us any homework Friday.”

Patrick blinked, immediately re-winding back to a few days ago. It wasn’t long till it struck him that she was right –he hadn’t assigned any homework.

“Right, of course. You’re right, Em.” He tucked the pages into one of the drawers of his wooden desk, then made his way to the front of the class. “Well, today’s class will be a continuation of what we reviewed Friday. You all seem to be doing well so far with processing and—”

It was then that he heard a sudden knock at the door.

Turning, he again saw the one person that had been stuck in his lingering thoughts since he’d woken up that very morning. Unlike all the times she used to appear at his doorway with a friendly smile, she now stood there with a blank, emotionless expression.

“I need a favour,” said Amber, keeping her gaze locked to the floor.

“What do you need?” asked Patrick, struggling to keep the increasing awkwardness from taking over.

“One of the computers in my room is malfunctioning,” she went on. “I was wondering if I could borrow one of yours till it’s fixed?”

“S-sure. Not a problem. I’ll get one of my spares.”

From the back of the room, he took one of the extra computers and carried it back to the front of the room. He did his best to keep his eyes trained on the computer in his hands, but eventually his gaze looked up toward Amber. So strange it was to see her standing there like she used to so often before, but how the circumstances had changed, and so drastically. Gone was the woman he’d grown to admire. Gone was the woman, whose smile could sneak effortlessly into his heart, whose laugh could ignite a fire inside him, and whose touch could send a rush of electric passion through him.

The Amber Norm he’d come to love was no longer in his life. He now had all but the sweet, yet painful memory of what they’d once shared.

“Here you go,” said Patrick, holding out the small computer. He wondered if the awkwardness he felt right then was showing on his face. While trying his best to keep his eyes from darting this way and that, it was near impossible to keep from doing so.

As for Amber, she reached out, took the computer, and went on standing there for all but a few seconds. Though it really was only a few seconds in time, it felt like a lifetime to Patrick, who wouldn’t have guessed how undeniably awkward things between them would soon become. It was much worse than he could have predicted.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice so quiet that Patrick barely heard.

For the briefest moment, the two found their wandering gazes meeting, as if searching for answers to questions they themselves weren’t entirely sure of. For Patrick, he wanted so badly to erase the very memory of yesterday’s incident and return to the life that had belonged to them alone. Standing there a victim to a weight of unshakeable awkwardness, all he wanted was to find some way of convincing her that what she’d seen wasn’t what she’d feared to be true. For Amber, it was like for the shortest, briefest of moments, she could remember the charismatic spark she felt with Patrick. Everything swam back to her in a speeding blur – his infectious laugh, his genuine smile, his calming voice, his nerdy habits. But just as quickly, it all came roaring back – yesterday.

She was just about to head back, when she saw a fleeting, desperate look in Patrick’s eyes. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen that look. Just yesterday she’d seen those eyes, filled with such desperation that she wished what she’d seen weren’t true.

“Amber…I—”

He struggled to find the right words, but came up hopefully empty. What in the world could he say to her? What could he ever say to convince her that all he’d said to her was the truth, and nothing of a lie?

“I-I have to go,” she finally said, dropping her gaze abruptly.

“Amber—”

“Goodbye, Mr. Mac.”

 _Mr. Mac?_ he thought, his mind spinning. He wasn’t used to her sounding so formal. No, he was used to the upbeat, playful tone that he’d grown to know so well. _I-It’s like everything we had is just…gone._

And with that, she turned on her heel and strode down the hall as if no longer wanting to be standing anywhere near Patrick Mac.

Patrick hadn’t expected Amber to believe anything he had to say, not after she’d seen another woman’s arms wrapped around him and her lips against his. What could he have said to make her forget all she’d seen? It was clear that attempting to patch things up with her was just about impossible, but it didn’t mean his heart wasn’t going to go on wishing that wasn’t the case.

 _If only I could prove to you I’m telling the truth_ , he thought glumly.

As he stood there, his unblinking eyes staring out blankly down the now empty hallway, he wasn’t aware that his students were all exchanging glances. As they were used to seeing the two teachers caught up in each other’s laughs and smiles, they hadn’t expected this sudden twist of events. Not only had they barely looked at the other, but the tone in Amber’s voice had done a complete three-sixty, and Patrick had clearly been struggling to tell her something – but what?

It was when he finally turned to face his students that he saw the confusion written all over their faces.

“Okay, on to today’s lesson then,” he announced, heading back towards his desk. “So on Friday, we covered the topic of Processing and Coding. Today, you’ll be introduced to the first of The Five Principles of Programming. Once you’ve mastered this first basic concept, we’ll then move on to the rest.”

Before he could continue, Em promptly raised her hand.

“Yes, Em?” asked Patrick.

Em paused momentarily, then opened her mouth to speak but instead, found she couldn’t get the words out. She knew exactly what she wanted to ask, but felt now just wasn’t the time, so she tucked it in the back part of her mind.

“Never mind,” she told him.

When noon rolled around and the teachers were spending their lunch in the teacher’s lounge, Patrick couldn’t yet wrap his head around the fact that he and Amber were no longer sitting together. Day after day, the two would look forward to spending lunch together, chatting away and laughing over so many things only they found funny. As he sat there with an empty space next to him, it felt so uncomfortably odd not having her there beside him.

Rather than sitting beside Patrick, Amber had now moved to the back of the room, seated in one of the easy chairs. Not once did she lift her gaze to look over in his direction; it was like the two were in separate rooms entirely. Where her attention was focused mostly on her phone, Patrick just couldn’t help look up every now and then to see her still absorbed in her phone, not even caring that she was still on his mind.

Regardless of his efforts of keeping his mind occupied, there was no shaking loose where his thoughts now stood. So for the hour, he sat in the spot that that had been he and Amber’s, eating in silence, all while letting the persistent thoughts come crashing down upon him.

The remainder of the day passed by just as slowly, each hour feeling more like a day. More than once he found himself checking the time on his comm, always surprised to see how unusually slow the day seemed to be going. He knew this wasn't the case; time was passing by just the same as it did any other day. But with how side-tracked he’d been since the minute he’d left his apartment, going about the day like this wasn’t helping.

Ultimately, the end of the day did arrive, but still Patrick’s mind was just as blurred. He wasn’t one to count down the hours till he’d head home, as he loved his work and saw Chelsea High as a second home, but today, he’d done exactly that. With how much he’d drained his thoughts, all he wanted was to crawl back into bed. He hoped that a good night’s sleep might recharge the energy and keenness he was known for having.

Before leaving, however, he received a sudden knock at the door. Looking up from his desk, he expected to see one of the other teachers but instead, saw Em standing there.

“Hi, Em,” said Patrick. He set his satchel back down on the desk and turned his attention to the open doorway. “What’s up?”

“Sorry, I know you’re getting ready to leave and—”

“No worries,” the teacher said casually. “Come on in.”

Em walked into the room and when Patrick watched her, he noticed an unmistakable look of a mixture of curiosity and confusion written on her face. One of his most clever, well-spoken students, it wasn’t hard to read the expressions on her face. And right then, there was no doubting that something was most certainly on her mind.

“I wasn’t really sure if I should be asking this,” she began. “I know it’s not really my business and—”

“You’re wondering about Amber, aren’t you?” he interrupted softly, his eyes dropping to the floor. He then let them flicker to the glass windows, catching sight of groups of people passing by out in the underground complex that made up Chelsea.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she went on, noticing the change in his voice. “It’s just…well…I’ve never seen you two like this.”

For the longest time, Patrick remained silent, only staring over at the window. Without meaning to, his mind had traveled to places he’d been fighting so hard to avoid, but as he knew, he was always fighting a losing battle. It was when he remembered Em standing there waiting that he shook himself together, turned back to face her and collected his thoughts.

“Amber and I,” he started, and paused before continuing, “We’re…we’re no longer together.”

Em let those words sink in, as if what she’d just heard made not even a bit of sense.

“But…why?” she finally asked, baffled. “You two were so close.”

“It…it just didn’t work out,” he said, sounding so lost and alone.

Em sensed her teacher was hurting and rather than ask further questions, she only commented softly, “I’m sorry, Mr. Mac.”

Patrick’s only response was a slight nod; his floundering mind was still miles away.

“I better be going,” he told her, making his way to the door. “I’ve got some planning to do before tomorrow’s lesson.”

“Right,” she said. “I’m sorry to have barged in like this.”

As he made his way down the long hallway, Em watched him momentarily. She’d seen the broken-look in his eyes and heard the lonely tone in his voice from earlier that day. But it was enough to convince her that he was hurting, and struggling to keep it boggled inside and not interfere with his daily work. But there was no hiding the lonesome look that had been so evident in his eyes as he went about his teaching.

As she left the school, all she could think to herself was: Poor Patrick.

 _It’ll be fine_ , thought Patrick, fighting hard to believe what he was telling himself. _I just…I just need to keep my mind off things. Read some new books. Hang out at the Library. Focus on…on being Patrick._

As he left the school, it wouldn’t have occurred to him that a pair of eyes were following him, cunning and unnoticed. What with the many other people making their way here and there, Patrick never could have thought he’d be watching him. Blending in all but seamlessly into the crowd of people, he let his intensely blue eyes follow the dazed teacher. Watching the broken-hearted teacher wander about – looking so much like a lost dog – he couldn’t help let a conceited smirk tug at the corners of his lips.

Just another satisfying day that’s come and gone, he thought smugly.

With that, the blue-eyed man chuckled under his breath while striding down the hall, his eyes seeming to shine more intensely than ever.

_Oh, hang in there, Teacher. I promise you, things will get much, much worse from here on out…for you._

It hadn’t dawned on Patrick just how difficult the weeks to come would be. While the months of September and October had sped by in a blur, November was doing just the opposite. It felt like every day dragged on at a pace that made him wonder if December would ever arrive at all, or if November would carry on forever and ever with no end.

Each morning, he woke up, ate breakfast, fed Earnest, went to work, came home, went to bed, and woke up next morning to repeat the cycle. He missed the days when he woke up eager to carry out his duties as a teacher and librarian at Chelsea High. Now, it felt more like he was forcing himself to find the energy to do so, all while trying to keep from dwelling on her. But it was no use – he just couldn’t shake her out of his thoughts.

In addition to mulling over that shattering morning, Patrick spent much time reflecting on the strangeness of how and why this had all come to be. The gunman who had ventured out to bring chaos to Chelsea High – where had he come from? More importantly, what had he meant when he said he’d been sent on strict orders? Who had demanded he go and do what he’d done? How could he ever expect to find those answers when nothing at all in his life made sense now? With the gunman now behind bars, it seemed his chances of ever uncovering the truth of what this all meant were slim to none.

And the woman who’d slithered so unexpectedly into their lives only to then push them apart, why had she become part of this baffling, frustrating mess? Patrick recalled seeing a news report detailing the incident, with no one entirely sure of whether her death had been suicidal, or if she’d been murdered. The how and why were nothing but a mystery, and even more mysterious for Patrick.

Could it be that both had been victims in a much larger plan? If that were true, then who was it that was orchestrating such madness like a wicked puppet master? And what had he, Patrick Mac – a simple high school teacher and librarian of Chelsea – done to attract the attention of one whose intent was to cause him nothing but grief?

He just didn’t know.

All he knew was that each night when crawling into bed with Earnest curled up beside him, he couldn’t help but think: why me?

And so the days went by and eventually, December was just around the corner. Patrick wished he could feel excitement, what with how close the holidays now were. Christmas was always reason to feel excited, especially with a New Year approaching. But things were different now. Not long ago, he’d expected that he and Amber would spend the holidays together but now it seemed like once more it would be just he and Earnest.

When at last December was upon him, Patrick realized how long already he and Amber had been apart. An entire month the two had gone about their lives as if the growing connection they’d once shared had been all but non-existent. More than once their eyes had met while passing in the hall, but just as quickly, both would drop their gaze and keep moving. Aside from that, it was like the two were once more strangers, going about their lives as normally as possibly.

Patrick was starting to believe it truly was the end of what he and Amber had shared. As much as it hurt, he felt there was no choice but to accept that this was now his life, and he’d just have to make the best of it.

It’s done, thought Patrick, the heavy weight of the unfortunate truth pressing down on him. Nothing will change. It won’t get any better. There’s nothing I can do to change how she feels.

It was during the first week of December that Patrick received news on something he couldn’t have anticipated.

He was just about to explain to his class their newest topic…when he heard a voice.

“Hello, Mr. Mac.”

Patrick turned to see the Director – Ms. Simmons – standing at the open doorway.

“Oh, hello, Director,” said Patrick. “Something I can do for you?”

“Actually, I just wanted to stop by to congratulate you.”

“Congratulate me?” asked Patrick, raising a brow in confusion. “For what?”

The Director chuckled, and answered, “Have you forgotten?”

“Uh, I suppose I have,” Patrick admitted, running his fingers through his long hair. “I apologize, but I don’t quite follow. What exactly am I being congratulated for?”

“You and your class will be attending this year’s Annual School Trip,” Ms. Simmons informed him. “Tomorrow, you and your class will be heading down to Honolulu, Hawaii for the week and from what I’ve read, the weather is expected to be quite lovely.”

Immediately, the class broke out in cheers of approval.

“Oh, that’s, that’s great,” said Patrick, chuckling. “Well, I think my class is in full approval of that. So we leave tomorrow, then?”

“Yes,” the Director confirmed. Before turning to head back to her office, she added, “Oh, before I leave. You’ll be heading out with Ms. Norm and her class. If you have any questions about the trip, I’ll be available later today if you want to stop by my office.”

With that, she turned and vanished down the hall.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii!” Shana exclaimed.

“Me too! They’ve got awesome beaches there.”

“And palm trees,” said Jay jokingly. “Lots and lots of palm trees.”

“I can’t wait to roast marshmallows,” said Casey.

“Don’t forget the smores,” Shana threw in. “Can’t have a campfire without smores.”

The students were so busy chatting away about what they planned on doing down in tropical-warm Hawaii, they didn’t even notice that Mr. Mac was clearly pre-occupied. Sure it was exciting news to hear he’d be spending some time in a place he’d always wanted to visit…but this newest wrinkle was bound to make things unavoidably complicated.

 _She won’t talk to me though_ , thought Patrick, his mind already racing ahead. _She might not even come. She might say she’s sick, or ask one of the other teachers. There’s no way she’ll go on this trip…not with me there!_

“That means no homework for a week!” Jay proclaimed, thrilled at the thought.

“Just basking in the sun,” Shana threw in.

“While eating smores over an open fire,” laughed Casey.

Later that night, Patrick was back home in his apartment, sitting at the kitchen table with Earnest curled up lazily on his lap. The moment he’d gotten home, he’d done nothing but fast-forward to tomorrow when he and his class would be on their way to Hawaii. Over and over he kept on asking himself: _will she be coming?_

The more he thought about it, the more he concluded that the odds of Amber attending were slim. He couldn’t imagine she’d want any part of a weeklong vacation with a guy she no longer wanted anything to do with, no matter how idyllic the beaches were. No, more likely than not it would be another teacher supervising her class, while she remained back at the school, away from him.

Before he nodded off to sleep, he tried to enjoy the thought of spending time down in Hawaii. He’d done much research on the place and couldn’t ignore the growing excitement at finally getting to experience it for himself. Warm sunshine, tropical beaches, delicious fruits, palm trees swaying in the breeze – it would be all there for him to enjoy.

“Wish I could take you Earnest,” he said, patting his cat under the chin. “But I doubt you’d do well with flying.”

Earnest stared up at him with sleepy eyes, then proceeded to curl up into a ball beside him, purring away.

The following day, both classes were already at the school with their bags packed for the much-anticipated week-long trip to Hawaii. None of the students had ever been to Hawaii, so it was a new, unexplored place for all of them…and they could hardly wait.

When Patrick stepped through the entrance doors, he saw the gathered students all standing there, chatting animatedly.

“All set?” he asked.

He was answered by multiple approving cheers.

He laughed and replied, “I’ll take that as a yes. Okay, the air taxi is waiting up on the surface to take us to the airport. It’ll take a few hours to get from here to Hawaii, four at the most. Other than that, let’s head up and get going!”

As the students started for the elevator that would take them aboveground, Patrick was about to do the same…when he saw her. As her class followed behind his, that was when he noticed her. She stood there, bag at her shoulder and appearing just as intimidating as she had for the past few weeks. The expression on her face was unchanged, and though he tried to read the emotions in her eyes, he came up empty. There were no emotions there, as she no longer felt any real, sincere emotions towards him. For her, he was nothing more than another teacher at Chelsea High. But no longer was he a friend, or someone she cared for.

“A-Amber?” Patrick stammered, taken aback by her presence. “You’re coming too?”

“Sure,” she answered calmly, focusing on her class. “I’ve always wanted to see Hawaii. This is the perfect opportunity to do so.”

“Okay, uh…great,” he said, feeling the awkward shiver down his back.

With that, he followed his class to the elevator, but now with a great lump resting in his throat. Of course, he hoped that maybe – just maybe – he and Amber might be able to mend their broken bond on this trip, but he felt that was stretching things too far. He knew deep down she most likely planned on speaking with him as little as possible. No doubt, she’d be civil to him, but he felt not even a little hope that maybe she might consider what he’d been trying so hard to convince her of – that he hadn’t lied to her.

When on board the plane, Patrick was instantly reminded of when he was a boy. He and his parents had often taken family trips to far-off places. As a child, he’d always marvelled at the wondrous sights of the distant world beneath him. He remembered staring wide-eyed at the immense whiteness of clouds and endless pastures of green that seemed to stretch on for miles.

He felt a touch of sadness at the memory of his parents, but reminded himself that this was to be a trip of enjoyment, learning and relaxation. As a teacher who felt a constant sense of passion for knowledge, he couldn’t wait to dive headfirst into the heart of Hawaii.

Still, he couldn’t help wish that he and Amber could enjoy this trip together. What an amazing trip the two could share, if not for that tragic day that already felt like a lifetime ago.

 _How did we end up here?_ he thought sadly, gazing out the window. Far below, the grassy green was growing more distant. Just up ahead, he could just make out the distinct outline of a large body of water. He thought he saw what looked like people, splashing about in the water, no doubt enjoying their day.

Pulling out his comm, he scrolled through till he found a book he was currently reading titled Falling and Rising. It was a historical story blended together with some drama and romance. He was only a few pages into the tale, but was intrigued to keep reading. Flying up amongst the clouds on his way to Hawaii, he couldn’t think of a better time to sit back, relax and jump back into a good book.

Three hours later, he was just nearing the end of his story, when he heard Jay sighing, “Mr. Mac, are we there yet?”

“Not yet, Jay,” he answered. He set the book down on his lap, once more turning his attention to the window and the outside scenery.

“How much longer?”

“Shouldn’t be much longer,” Patrick replied, checking the time. “Another half hour or so.”

“Wish they had a pool up here,” said Jay, putting his hands behind his head. “Now that would be nice.”

“They couldn’t fit a pool up here,” Em laughed, taking a sip of iced tea.

Jay shrugged, and said, “Still, it would be nice.”

Patrick chuckled. “Don’t worry,” he assured him. “There’ll be plenty of time for swimming.”

“A whole week!” Shana exclaimed from the row behind them. “I can’t wait.”

For the remainder of the flight, Patrick immersed himself in the final portion of his book. The story had been growing more complex and engaging than he’d anticipated. With only a few pages left, he found himself devouring every word, more intrigued than ever to figure out how it would all end. Would the mysterious man conquer all the hurdles that life threw at him? And would the equally mysterious woman prove that she too could overcome the constant obstacles that stood in the way between regaining control of her life, and securing the love she’d discovered between she and Antonio.

He was so absorbed in the story that he didn’t even realize the exact moment when the plane was landing at the airport.

“Finally!” Jay exclaimed. “Hawaii, here we come.”

His remark was rapidly followed by the cheering from the many other students on the plane. As Patrick tucked his book back into his bag, he glanced back and noticed Amber sitting a few rows back. She – along with many of her own students – had their eyes fixed on the outside airport. She wasn’t aware in the slightest that Patrick was staring at her with a look of palpable loneliness.

He reflected briefly on the ending to his recent novel. Throughout all the challenges and consistent hurdles, the two heroes – Antonio and Ronita – had ultimately triumphed against all the odds.

 _If only our lives could be just as triumphant_ , he thought, his mind still stuck in the pages of the story.

He didn’t have time to remain dwelling on it for much longer though. What with the excited chatter that now filled the plane, it was time to head out, pick up their bags…and begin their week-long trip in Hawaii.

As the two teachers and group of students stepped off the plane, everyone at once felt the welcoming Hawaiian sun shining down on them.

“I could get used to this!” said Shana, lifting her face up and closing her eyes.

“Tell me about it,” said Casey, doing the same. “I’ll take this over the cold any day.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Em threw in.

“All right!” Patrick announced. “Everyone gather around. We’re going to take an air taxi to the vacation spot they have reserved for us here. I think you’ll all enjoy it. It’s right in the heart of lush waterfalls, hiking trails and one of Hawaii’s largest beaches. Meals will be served there and if I remember correctly, they’ve arranged for a dessert buffet and from what they told me…it all sounds pretty delectable.”

As Patrick went on explaining the features of where they’d be staying, Amber stood next to him, remaining silent. She glanced around briefly at her surroundings, looking father out at the vast treetops and beauty that made up Hawaii. She was thrilled at the thought of getting a whole week to explore its wonders but just couldn’t shake the fact that she and Patrick were here…together.

When he’d finished speaking, Patrick asked, “Anyone have any questions?”

“Just one,” said Jay. “Is the dessert buffet all-you-can-eat?”

Patrick laughed and answered, “Yes…so don't be shy with seconds and thirds.”

“Awesome!” Jay exclaimed, his mouth already watering in anticipation.

It was a short enough trip from the airport to their designated spot. While flying up over the treetops, everyone’s eyes took in the immense canopy of green below, and the approaching outline of a dazzling beach. Even from as high up as they were, the water seemed to shimmer and shine as if it were made of liquid diamonds. To say they couldn’t wait to get in the water and feel the sun beaming down on their faces was an understatement.

The vacation home where they’d be staying proved more spectacular than any could have imagined. It was a beautifully designed multi-levelled log-home built right next to the water, allowing for a constant view of the surrounding beach outside. To drift off to sleep with the sound of waves crashing against the shore was something Patrick had always wanted to experience. All through the massive home were various plants and flowers that only helped add a refreshing, nature-heavy smell to the place. Just outside was a view that could have reminded them all of what one often saw on postcards – towering palm trees laden with fresh coconuts, colourful flowers scattered all about, a picture-perfect beach and enormous grassy mountains far in the distance.

It didn’t take the students long to hurry inside and check out their individual rooms. Just as quickly, they dropped off their bags and proceeded to explore the many rooms.

“Well, seems they’re ready to go,” said Patrick, chuckling quietly.

Standing beside him was Amber, who was still taking in the sight of the giant home. For a moment, she remained silent and then turned to face him. She was about to answer but instead, merely nodded and walked off.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” she called back to him. “Gonna grab something to eat.”

“Okay.”

So far, it didn't seem to Patrick as if he and Amber would be doing much speaking at all. From what he observed, he felt Amber would rather go about this trip while communicating with him as little as possible.

What broke him out of his thoughts was the sound of approaching footsteps. Moments later, he watched as Jay, Shana, Casey and Roger came running down the steps, headed straight for the entrance doors.

“Can we go swimming?” asked Jay eagerly.

Patrick cleared his racing thoughts and said, “Well, seeing as the sun’s out and the beach is just a minute’s walk away…why not?”

Without waiting, the four students darted outside. It wasn’t long till they were joined by several others. Soon, other students joined in and by the time they reached the idyllic beach, Patrick had been leading both he and Amber’s class. The only person who hadn’t tagged along…was Amber. With the growing excitement spreading through them, the students didn’t think to wonder why she chose to stay back in her room, but Patrick knew. He knew well enough she just didn’t want to have to be around him. Whether or not that might change later in the week, he’d just have to wait and see.

When evening had finally taken over and everyone had eaten, most were up in their bedrooms. Some were watching TV, others were reading on holographic screens, many were down at the buffet enjoying the endless display of desserts, but only one person was outside.

Just after supper, Patrick had made his way down the grassy trail to their open backyard. There, he’d comfortably settled himself into one of the colourful hammocks and shifted his eyes upward to a sky filled with countless, shimmering stars. Like a blanket of never-ending diamonds, they seemed to twinkle and shine, as if knowing that a pair of eyes was gazing up at them. As a boy, Patrick had always enjoyed staring up into a star-filled sky, spotting constellations, searching for shooting stars and wondering what might possibly exist up in the wondrous place that was outer space.

For the next hour, Patrick contended himself to lying out under the stars. For that small time, he was simply able to enjoy staring up at an endless display of stars, and let his thoughts focus only on that. For that brief moment, he was able to remind himself that throughout the hurting, he couldn’t forget that all the little things – like sleeping under a star-filled sky – were still there to comfort him.

Before heading to bed herself, Amber was sitting at the long wooden table, looking out towards the beach and surrounding palm trees. In front of her was a delicious fruit salad smothered in chocolate, whip cream and cinnamon. She’d tried this appetizing treat earlier at dinner, but decided that it also made for an ideal evening snack.

With the moon nestled high in the sky, it was the perfect night for walking along the beach, something she and Patrick no doubt would have enjoyed doing…in another lifetime. Instead, she was sitting alone with every part of her mind revisiting that day she wanted so badly to forget, to shove out of her head entirely. All she wanted was to enjoy this weeklong vacation and not let the invading frustrations and questions creep into her thoughts. No, it was best just to put all that to rest and focus on Hawaii and Hawaii alone.

But that was easier said than done.

Staring out the window at the sleeping man in the hammock, she couldn’t erase that nagging, undeniable sense that some part of her ached to go out and talk to him. Really, how bad would it be to just go out, tell him how she felt and do something she hadn’t really allowed herself to do – listen to him. Surely, she could do that much…couldn’t she? Suppose she was wrong though, and re-discussing what happened on that shocking morning only helped add more fuel to the fire? The woman she’d caught kissing him had been reported dead the following day and while nothing at all made sense, the bottom line was that he clearly had feelings for other women. Why else would she have stumbled upon him locking lips with someone else? The truth was, she truly hadn’t any idea how to make sense of why he’d done what he’d done, and as she took one last bite of her salad, she came to one conclusion.

 _It doesn’t matter_ , she thought, conflicted and tired. _H-he doesn’t care about me anyway. If he wants to be with other women, fine. But I want no part of it._

With that in mind, she left the kitchen, went upstairs and crawled into bed. She expected to nod off almost instantly. Instead, she lay there unable to drift off to sleep, doing nothing but staring up at the ceiling, her mind more awake and heavy than ever before.


	20. A Raven's Trap

In the middle of the night, Patrick was awoken by what sounded like footsteps. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and looked about, searching for who it might be. Was it one of the students? Amber?

Focusing his attention to the right, he could just barely make out the shape of someone clearly heading towards him. What with how dark it was, he struggled to pinpoint who it could be, but as they drew closer towards him, he saw it was a man. The guy had brown hair, wore jeans, a work shirt and a long tan coat that flapped in the wind as he walked. Around his neck he wore a garland of multi-colored flowers – a lei – as so commonly seen by those in Hawaii. He also wore an odd-looking ring on his finger. It was silver with a slate-colored stone in the centre. Surrounding the stone was a series of unfamiliar symbols that Patrick couldn't recall having ever seen before. It seemed to be some sort of inscription, but in no language the teacher could make sense of.

Strangely, though Patrick hadn't any clue as to who this guy was, he didn't feel any immediate sense of hesitation one normally felt when approached by a stranger. No, something about this new arrival made him feel he was the sort of guy one could trust and feel at ease around. He couldn't explain it, but he felt it just the same.

"Evening," the guy said in a friendly tone. "Great night for star-gazing, huh?"

Patrick yawned, and sat up straighter. "Sure," he answered. "Even got to see a couple constellations. I used to stargaze lots when I was a kid, but now, I get a lot more out of it. Makes me curious though, what's really up there."

The guy gave a knowing smile and replied, "Well, now that's quite the question, isn't it? What's truly out there? What wonders are out there to explore?"

Patrick studied the guy more closely, noticing how calm and confident he appeared. With his hands resting on his hips, he surveyed the sky as if he held all the knowledge of the ages. To Patrick, he looked like a prophet, or some person of great wisdom who held all the answers to so many questions. Whoever this mysterious stranger was, Patrick felt a sudden sense of curiosity about him that he himself couldn't quite understand. In a word, the guy was an enigma.

"You from around here?" Patrick asked the guy.

"I suppose you could say that," was the answer. "I'm from here, there, and all over. I come and go, traveling far and wide."

"So you're a traveler?"

Upon hearing this, the guy chuckled. Patrick went on staring at the guy in confusion, wondering what was funny, but now all the more curious as to who he was.

"You've no idea how right you are," the guy told him. "I'm _indeed_ a traveler."

"Is this your first time in Hawaii?"

"Nope, I've stopped by here before. Wonderful place."

"Oh, I'm here with some students of mine," Patrick explained. "It's like a school trip, but more like a vacation, really. Of course, the kids love not having homework. Can't blame them for that. It is pretty amazing here."

"Can't argue with that," said the guy in agreement. "Then again, I've always been a beach kind of guy. Nothing like grabbing a surf board and riding some wicked waves."

Patrick was about to respond, but found his thoughts drifting off to other places. Without intending to, he found himself thinking of Amber and like a move on re-run, he saw her angered face, so full of hurt, staring at him with her conflicted eyes. Like daggers to his heart, he once more felt the pain of her stinging comments pushing down on him like a mighty storm.

With a quiet, almost inaudible sigh, he directed his focus back up to the sky. The only difference was he no longer looked up with awe-struck eyes; his eyes were now clouded by unmistakable loneliness.

"Something on your mind?" the guy asked, leaning against the tree.

"A _lot_ of things, actually," said Patrick, sounding weary. He sounded like a guy who'd been through a lot, and he was now starting to feel the true weight of it.

Despite the fact that he was a stranger, Patrick felt if there was anyone who was willing to listen and take the time to offer advice, it was this guy. Normally, Patrick was a thinker and liked giving deep thought into things, but not tonight. Tonight, his mind felt as tired as if he'd gone days without sleep.

"It's my girlfriend," he began. "Well…was my girlfriend. We're not together anymore. A month ago, we split up when she thought I'd left her for another woman. But that wasn't what happened. I'd never have done something like that, but she caught some other woman kissing me…but I hadn't any idea who she was! She…it was like she just showed up out of nowhere. Literally. She acted like we'd always known each other, but I'd never seen her before. Then next day, I find out her body was discovered in the woods – no one knows if she was murdered or if it was suicide – but nothing makes sense." Patrick stopped talking, long enough to quickly replay all that had happened that morning, the morning he and Amber's love had been shattered without hesitation. "I know it doesn't make sense," Patrick told the guy. "I don't even understand it myself. All I know is she now hates me…and I can't change that. There's nothing I can do to fix this."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," the guy shot back thoughtfully. "You'd be surprised at how things can change with a little time and perseverance."

"I want to believe that's true," said Patrick, letting another sigh escape him. "But I don't think anything can help us now. There's no changing what she saw."

"If it's help you're looking for," the guy offered. "Why not look to _yourself_?"

Patrick looked up at the guy, and raised a brow in puzzlement. " _Me_?"

"Sure," said the guy casually. He shrugged and added, "I'm sure you're a smart, resourceful guy."

"Not smart enough to find a way out of this," Patrick said doubtfully.

The guy smiled and said with unwavering certainty, "If you need help, son, then I can't think of a better person to help you than yourself."

"What can _I_ do though?" asked Patrick, looking to the ground. "I tried talking to her, but that never seems to work. She's too upset to listen to anything I have to say." He paused for a moment, and then said in defeat, "Who knows? Maybe we're not meant to be together at all."

"Well," said the guy calmly. "Ask yourself: is this the way things are meant to be?"

"I want to say no," Patrick admitted. "But what do I know? What if we really aren't supposed to be together? Maybe this is how things were always meant to be?"

"From what you tell me," the guy concluded, sounding admiringly confident. "This isn't the way things were meant to be. Want my advice?"

Patrick waited for the guy's response.

"Go and change that," was the guy's simple advice. "If this isn't the way things were meant to be, then you go and change that till you can say with absolute confidence: this is the way it was meant to be."

Patrick rolled those words around in his head, considering their unlikely, deeper meaning. Like a puzzle of many pieces, no doubt there was a deep message hidden within that he so badly wanted to unravel.

"You're a smart guy, Patrick," the guy reminded him. "Someone like yourself will surely find a way to find the solution to your problem. You just need a little push."

As Patrick spent a moment analysing the guy's advise, scrutinizing over how he could possibly undo what had been, he hardly noticed the guy vanishing out of sight. High above, the shining stars appeared brighter than earlier that night, as if now wide-awake and humming with newfound energy.

After thinking it over, a confused look crossed his face. Looking over his shoulder, he called out, "Wait…how did you know my name?" But peering behind him, he saw the guy was no longer there. Patrick looked all about, but nowhere in sight was the mysterious man. Strangely, he seemed to have vanished right out of sight. One moment he was there, the next…gone. Where he could have gone to, Patrick couldn't guess.

"Well, whoever you are…thanks," Patrick uttered, his eyes again fixed on the vast sky.

It wasn't till the final hours of the night that Patrick fell into a dream that felt oddly familiar. When morning arrived, he didn't remember much of the dream itself, only that he recalled seeing that stranger again. Like when they'd spoken, he was still wearing jeans, a work shirt and a long tan coat and still he wore that smile that said so many things. Feeling the dream slipping away from him, Patrick tried calling out for the guy's name – wanting to know who he was – but everything was wiped out in an instant. Colors swirled, he felt the sensation of falling, and next thing he knew, he felt the radiant sun shining down on his face.

 _Morning already?_ he thought, surprised by how quickly the night had gone.

Remaining in bed for only a minute, he then got up, looked out the bedroom window and smiled. Just like yesterday, the sun was shining brightly as always, the palm trees were swaying lazily in the wind and the beach seemed to be calling to him. Another perfect day for relaxing on the sand and floating about in the tropical waters awaited him.

"Hello again, Hawaii," he said, no longer feeling sleepy. "Long time no see."

It didn't take long for all the students to hurry out of bed and make their way downstairs to the breakfast buffet. With the mouth-watering display of bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, stacks of heavenly pancakes, fresh bits of fruit, creamy yogurts and chocolate fountain, how could one spend the day in bed?

Following breakfast, the students made their way to the beach. Nothing was on their minds except running barefoot across the soft, warm sand, searching for seashells, and floating about in the tropical waters. The group spent much time on the beach and around noon, Patrick and Amber led them up farther into the neck of the woods. Only a few minutes from the beach was a hiking trail that offered many fruits one could pick fresh from the shrubs. As they walked, Patrick wished he and Amber could enjoy this adventure in the woods. Instead, they hardly spoke and the longer they went on walking, the more Patrick wanted so badly to make the first move and try and speak with her.

He said I was the only one who could help myself, thought Patrick, re-running the man's words over in his head. But how can I help myself when I can't even talk to her? Am I really that cowardly?

After they spent some time picking berries from the shrubs – juicy blackberries, sweet raspberries and plump blueberries – they sat down to relax and enjoy the scrumptious feast. They'd found a perfect spot just beside a great river where the trees towered overhead, providing just the right amount of shade. As the kids snacked away and chatted amongst themselves, Patrick settled down in front of a large tree. With his back against the huge trunk, he took in the sight of the constantly roaring river before him. Letting his gaze wander farther outward, he wondered where the river ended. Was there a waterfall somewhere at the end, or did it continue on farther? He wondered this only for a moment, and then closed his eyes, rested his head against the trunk of the tree…and let the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves fill his mind. It reminded him of back home in Chelsea when he'd venture aboveground to revisit the rolling, grassy plains.

Amber, meanwhile, had noticed a particularly delicious looking shrub dotted with the reddest, ripest raspberries one could hope to see. Even from across the river, there was no missing the distinct red and one look at those berries, and it got her mouth watering. Wondering how she could safely cross the river, her eyes fell on what appeared to be a wooden bridge spanning across the width of the river. It looked plenty sturdy enough and without a second thought, she made her way towards it, being careful not to trip over fallen branches or loose stones.

When she reached the bottom, she examined the bridge more closely and saw that it was indeed sturdy enough. As she slowly started her way across, she felt the weight of the bridge and knew that it could likely hold herself and several others. Who had constructed the bridge, she wasn't sure of, but it was a convenient enough place to have built one.

Perched up high in the treetops, however, was a black raven. Unlike most ravens, it was much larger in size and its black was more the color of dark, ominous shadows. Its eyes though, were the brightest, most piercing shade of blue. Watching in amusement as the young teacher made her way across the bridge, it inched its way closer to the end of the branch. Then, as she was just about to step off the bridge, it dove downward in a single swoop, its eyes blazing like a wild, blue inferno.

Then, with a shrieking CAW, the bird adjusted its course slightly, now heading straight for her at eye level. She started in surprise, and turning, she saw the unmistakable form of a jet-black bird rushing towards her, its talons out and beak open, still shrieking fiercely. For a second, she almost couldn't accept what she was seeing. It made no sense – a bird speeding towards her? She had to be seeing things? Yet it almost looked like this bird was meaning to attack her. Like predator and prey, it continued its descent, not slowing down for even a second.

As crazy an image as it was, there was no shaking it loose. With a great flap of its wings and a startling screech, it was nearly on her, its talons ready to strike her in the face. She felt a growing sense of dread and confusion. Without realizing it, she started taking a step backwards and as if challenging her, the raven sped up, its cries echoing through the sky. She took another step; it was like her body now had a mind of its own and she was merely along for the ride. What she didn't realize was that she was drawing nearer and nearer to the edge of the bridge.

The next thing she knew, Amber had fallen right off the bridge itself…and was swallowed up in the rapidly moving river. Like a ravenous beast, she'd fallen right into its gaping mouth, and was now trapped and spiralling into a state of utter panic. As for the raven, it shot upward back into the sky, but still with its piercing eyes fixed on the now unfolding drama below. It was in no hurry, and wished to witness its latest spectacle.

"Did you hear that?" asked Jay suddenly, looking to the sky.

'Yeah, sounds like a bird," Em remarked, her eyes studying the bird closely.

"A loud one, too," added Roger.

"Wait – what's that sound?" asked Jay, listening closely.

"It sounds like…like—" but before Em could finish, they were all interrupted by a deafening cry that cut through the silence.

"Help!"

One look down at the river and both Em and Jay spotted Amber, helplessly being carried down the fury of the river.

"Ms. Norm!" they both shouted.

"Get Mr. Mac!" Em ordered. Without waiting, she hurried down the hill as fast as her legs could carry her.

But when Jay, Roger and Shana looked, they saw he was no longer by the tree. But where had he gone? A quick look around, and Jay pointed to their left.

"There he is!" Jay announced.

Em caught up to them and declared breathlessly, "He's going after her."

"No way," Jay exclaimed.

"Come on!" she shouted and with that, she and the others hurried after their teacher.

The first moment when she'd fallen into the river, it hadn't hit Amber exactly what had happened. The shock of what was now unfolding hadn't occurred to her till she felt the jarring sensation of being dragged under. One minute she was struggling to keep her head above water, the next, she was horridly pulled under. Like a rag doll being dragged along, she desperately tried keeping her head up while gasping for breath. With the rush of water swirling all around her, she could barely make out her surroundings. Even the sky above her felt non-existent. All she felt was the water swallowing her up. All she heard was the roaring and rushing that seemed to scream like thunder in her ears.

With every moment her head was forced under, she thought numbly: _I'm not going to make it._

Lifting her head back up, she coughed forcefully, struggling to see anything other than the furious water. Wait – was there something running alongside the river in the woods. Her head swam but she looked harder, thinking that it must have been someone. But…who was it? Or was she imagining it all? She saw the outline of the trees and what she thought was someone running amongst them? Whoever it was, they were running at top speed.

There was no time to wonder, for she was once again pulled under. This time, she felt the entire world spinning in a violent, startling blur. She felt her lungs screaming for air and with the greatest effort, she popped her head back up, feeling completely helpless against this unforgiving river.

That was when she heard it – the voice. Somehow it seemed to cut right through the rushing water.

"Amber!"

Exhausted, she looked again to her right. As before, she saw the faint outline of what appeared to be someone running. Through the trees, she saw the figure running so quickly, it looked like nothing more than a speeding blur.

She tried calling out feebly, but instead felt the water forcing her under yet again.

"Amber, hold on!" screamed Patrick, his heart pounding in his chest.

Amber felt a surge of hope. She knew that voice! It was the one, single, familiar voice that never seemed to leave her. It was always there, especially in times when she so desperately needed to hear it the most.

It was when she finally saw who it was that she cried out in a desperate, pleading call for help that sent chills down Patrick's spine.

"PATRICK!"

"Amber, I'm coming! Just hold on!"

With his heart wanting to leap right out of his chest, Patrick willed his legs to move faster. Never in his life had he remembered running so quickly, with such fear swelling in his heart. With each step he took, he silently told himself to keep moving, to not let her out of his sight…to bring her back to safety. Whatever it took, he told himself he'd take her out of the rush and fury of the river that had so unexpectedly snatched hold of her.

"Patrick, I—" but again, Amber's head vanished beneath the water.

Patrick's mind raced upon seeing this. That was when he quickened his paced, approached the edge of the woods and looked out onto the rushing water – and Amber. In that one single moment, he felt so many emotions flooding through him. But it was then that everything became crystal clear. He knew what he needed to do.

Without even hesitating, he jumped into the river.

Unlike Amber, the rush and speed of the water hit Patrick instantaneously. While running, it had looked to be moving quickly but it wasn't till now that he felt the true power as it now too dragged him along in its path. But rather than let the shock of it sink in, he struggled against the constantly moving water. Between trying to keep Amber in his sights and not get sucked under himself, it was a battle he hadn't expected. While pumping his arms to move faster, he wondered if his efforts would all be lost? Did he really stand a chance against this relentless river?

The answer he chose was… _yes._

"Amber!" he hollered, watching her closely. "Amber, I'm right here!"

"Patrick, please!" she called out weakly.

"Swim hard, Amber!" he screamed. "Keep your head up!"

"I-I can't!" she yelled, the roar of the water drowning out her cries.

"Yes, you can!" he yelled back, keeping his head above water. "I'm not far! Just swim to me."

But try as she might, she just couldn't seem to reach Patrick. What with how helpless she felt, he sounded like he was miles away, completely unable to release her from the devious trap the raven above had so easily executed.

For Patrick, it dawned on him that she wouldn't be able to reach him. She just didn't have the strength to fight against this. But could he himself find the strength to keep fighting until it was too late?

Then they both heard it. The sound was unmistakable. Without needing to see it, both knew at once what awaited them – a waterfall. If they couldn't find a way out of this river, it wouldn't be long till both went plummeting to their deaths.

"Amber, just keep swimming!" Patrick called frantically. "Don't look anywhere else. Just keep looking at me! I'm right here!"

"Patrick," she cried out, trying to listen to nothing other than his voice. It was close, yet still so hopelessly far.

"Just hold on!" he cried out, focusing only on Amber and Amber alone.

Closer and closer he drew, but still not close enough to reach out and grab hold of her. But that didn't stop him from trying. How many times he himself got dragged under, he couldn't guess. For him, it didn't matter – so long as he was in that river, he wouldn't stop till he'd gotten hold of her and brought her to safety…or died in the attempt. But it was a wild, overwhelming battle he'd just become part of, and he could feel the weight of it draining him.

But then he heard Amber's pleading voice and a surge of energy shot through him like the wildest storm. Where the rush of energy came from, he couldn't say for sure but whatever the case, he was thankful for it. After another minute of struggling against the water, he was now close enough to reach out for her.

"Amber, here!" he called quickly. "I'm right here! Grab on to my arm!"

Amber looked and saw the outstretched arm, but so tired and dizzy she felt.

"Amber!" he cried forcefully. "You can do it!"

Hearing his voice, she shook off the weight of dizziness, reached out…and grabbed on to his arm. She feared that the river would drag her away and down, down over the waterfall, but she held on tightly. She did her best to block out the frightening image of falling over a roaring waterfall; she envisioned she and Patrick reaching the edge of the wood and climbing up to safety.

Relieved for the moment, Patrick then focused on getting them out of the river. A part of him wondered if they might not make it at all. Would the river grab on to both of them without mercy and bring them to the edge, only to then send them plummeting downward? But still another part of him – a part that never failed to arise when he needed it the most – told him not to give in.

Keep your head up, eyes open…and keep moving, he told himself.

One moment, he was seeing the edge of the woods, and their place of safety. Another moment, his eyes were seeing multiple, intertwining images. Like blurring colors that blended seamlessly into the other, they clouded his now swirling vision.

 _Focus, Patrick!_ he thought, blocking out any distractions. _Focus…focus…just keep focusing._

And then, like a lifeline to a drowning man, he saw it – their ticket to safety. With increased focus, Patrick forced his arms and legs to propel them across and closer towards the fallen log that was just within reach. Despite having to carry both the weights of himself and Amber, so light she felt behind him, that it wasn't as difficult as he'd expected. What made it tirelessly challenging was having to fight against the water that kept trying to pull them along, wanting to keep them from escaping.

But Patrick Mac was a fighter – and wasn't about to stop fighting now.

After a last moment of struggling, he summoned the last burst of strength that was in him, reached out…and grabbed on to the log. Holding on for all he was worth, he then looked back to Amber and declared breathlessly, "We did it."

At first, she couldn't register what he was saying. Had she heard him right? Had he really just said they'd done it?

"Here, I'll help you up," offered Patrick. While still holding on tightly to the log, he pulled her up so she could grab on, walk across and make her way back onto solid ground.

When she did so, she felt a little unsteady on her feet. Stopping, she stared down at the ground, waiting for the world to stop spinning in chaotic circles. Finally, when it did, she felt the incredible, reliving sensation of standing. She was again standing on her own two feet. No longer was she being dragged along down a rapidly moving river, fearing that death was waiting for her at the end. It didn't matter that she was rattled, weak and drenched from head to toe. She was alive!

Stepping up beside her, Patrick took a minute to catch his breath. Swallowing, he took in a lungful of fresh air, thankful and beyond relieved that he and Amber had survived. Just minutes ago, he'd feared that not only would he fail to rescue Amber, but that he too would become swallowed up by the mouth of the river. But they'd survived. Both teachers had survived and feeling the sun beaming down on his face, Patrick silently thanked the man from the previous night. He'd explained to Patrick that all he needed was a little push. It wasn't till then that he understood what he'd meant. Through all his doubts and fears and insecurities, he'd triumphed against them all to keep safe what he cared so much about – Amber.

As he stood there still catching his breath, he focused on Amber. She too was catching her breath, but was now looking directly at Patrick. As their eyes then locked, Patrick realized that it had been the longest time since she'd looked at him like this. For the last month, she'd only looked at him with hurt, anger and distrust. But now, all he saw when he stared into her unblinking eyes was a sea of soft, shimmering colors. He tried to read what all these colors meant but before he could try and do so, she rushed up to him, wrapped her arms around him tightly…and held him closely.

Not quite knowing what to say, he wrapped his arms around her, thankful that she was now safe and out of harm's way. Feeling her arms around him, he remembered how much he'd loved feeling her so close to him. And now, he wanted nothing more than to keep her enveloped in a blanket of comfort and safety. He felt it was a miracle that he'd been able to once again protect the woman he loved.

When he felt her body trembling, he pulled her in closer and told her softly, "It's okay…you're okay."

He wondered if just maybe the two might be able to resurrect their buried love? But then the truth hit him, and he remembered. There was no changing how she felt about him. Yes, he had once again saved her life, but would that do anything to change how she felt about what she thought he'd done to her?

In a shaky voice filled of intense emotion, she uttered, "T-thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, Amber, I—"

"No, I do," she answered firmly. She stepped back, looked him square in the eye, and felt a tear trickling down her cheek. "You already saved my life once." She paused briefly, then wiped the tear away and told him, "Then you go and do it all over again. Y-you could have died."

Patrick considered this. Yes, he could have indeed died. But that didn't stop him from doing what needed to be done.

He held her gaze and said softly, "And I'd do it again. A thousand times over if I needed to."

"Mr. Mac!"

"Ms. Norm?"

Both teachers turned and saw Em, Jay and all the other students hurrying after them. Patrick had almost forgotten that they'd been calling for him. He felt instant relief at seeing that no one had been hurt.

"Thank goodness you're all okay," he told them.

"Thank goodness you guys are okay!" said Jay, still trying to catch his breath. "That was crazy."

"You sure you guys are okay?" asked Em with concern.

Patrick and Amber exchanged glances, and both nodded numbly.

"Yeah," said Patrick, still trying to wrap his head around what just happened. "We're fine."

Above them and far out of sight, the black raven surveyed the scene below. Its eyes flashed intensely and with a flap of its wings, turned and shot off into the day.

Nothing like a teacher's love to save you from harm, it thought, amused by the spectacle. My, Patrick, how you continue to surprise me.

"How about some lunch?" Patrick suggested. We can eat back at the house."

Everyone agreed to this and in no time, the group was back at the house, sitting down to a delicious lunch. Unlike yesterday – with Amber sitting at the opposite end of the table from him – she now sat beside Patrick. Still trying to wrap her head around things, the two teachers didn't say much, and mostly ate in silence. But every now and then, he caught her eyes watching him with a look that was somewhat hard to read. What was it that was going through her mind? Was she still upset with him over what had taken place between he and that other woman? As the two were still tired from their struggle in the river, they didn't quite know what to say.

It was later that night when the moon was once more in the sky that Patrick made his way outside. He walked past the hammock he'd slept in yesterday and instead, settled down comfortably on a soft, grassy patch. Stretching out before him was an endless, gorgeous view of the golden sand and sapphire-blue waves gently crashing against the shore. Above him were the countless stars that never failed to shine and twinkle in a way that was downright magical.

He was about to see what constellations he could spot…when he heard someone approaching from behind.

Turning, he saw Amber walking towards him. She wore light-blue pyjamas, cottony slippers and had left her hair down, it falling just past her shoulders. What with how she was dressed, she looked to have been just getting ready for bed. But she was outside, under a star-filled sky, now looking to Patrick with shining eyes.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked quietly, as if fearing he might turn her away.

"No, not at all," he said quickly, smiling up at her. "I'd love the company."

Sitting down next to him, she shifted her gaze upward. She hadn't appreciated till now just how breathtakingly beautiful a star-filled sky could be.

"Great night for star-gazing, isn't it?" said Patrick, his eyes taking in the glistening stars.

Amber only nodded in agreement. She then wrapped her arms around her knees, paused only briefly, and said, "Patrick?"

"Yeah?" she heard him say.

She sighed, and then said the two words Patrick hadn't expected to hear, not after what had sprung up between them.

"I'm sorry."

He blinked, and turned to her with a look of surprise on his face.

She felt a dry lump in her throat, but swallowed and went on to say, "When I was in that river today, and I thought I was gonna die, the weirdest thing happened. I was scared to death and could hardly think of anything, but there was one thing I just couldn't get out of my head. I kept thinking: If this is the end, I just hope I can see Patrick Mac's face one more time."

Patrick felt a rush of confusion upon hearing this, but he listened intently as she continued.

"There was only one person I wanted to see. He was the one person who always made me feel so safe, who made me laugh and smile and feel everything you'd ever want to feel. If I was to die, I just hoped the last thing I saw was your face, Patrick. If I could just see your smiling face once more, just once…well…that's all I kept asking for."

"B-but I thought—"

"No," she softly interrupted, locking her eyes on his. "I was wrong. I didn't see that till today. I knew when I first saw you running after me that I was wrong." She then felt the building of tears in her eyes as she whispered, "Here all this time…I was the one who was wrong. Here, I put all the blame on you, thinking you were in the wrong when it wasn't you at all. It never was."

There was a short pause, and then she went on, "Here all this time, I pushed you away and kept telling myself you were the one in the wrong. But it wasn't you. What man would put his life on the line not once, but twice, for someone unless he cared about them? It just didn't make sense. I was too angry and blinded to see it. But then I remembered what you did. You took a bullet for me, Patrick. That's a debt I'll never be able to repay. But you didn't stop there. Here that river could have just as easily kill you, but still you jumped in to help me."

She wiped her face of the tears and told him, "Here this whole time, I kept telling myself you were the enemy when all along…you've always been there for me. Always. Maybe I just couldn't get over what my eyes saw but today, after what you did, it just didn't matter anymore. I get it now. You never lied to me. I just wasn't able to listen when you tried helping me understand."

She paused again, and revealed, "Truth is, I kept wondering if I was in the wrong. I kept going back and forth between what I saw, what I felt, and what my heart kept trying to tell me – that you weren't lying. Every day, I kept thinking about you and I started hating that I was avoiding you so much. I…I just wish I'd listened to you. This wouldn't have happened if I'd just listened. Instead of trusting in you and believing you, I just believed what my eyes were seeing." She dropped her head and uttered guiltily, "I shouldn't have done that. I should have trusted you."

Rolling her words around in his head, Patrick tried coming up with a response, but came up empty. With all the emotions that had been rising between them, he just couldn't think of what to say to that. So instead, he didn't try doing so with words. As there were other ways of communicating one's thoughts, he knew exactly how to do so.

Without hesitating, Patrick leaned over, cupped Amber's face into his hands …and brought his lips onto hers. Instantly, it felt like all the emotions over the past month – the doubt, separation, frustration, longing, sadness and confusion – had washed away with this one, single kiss. All those emotions seemed to be fading away and replacing them was the passion that had been hiding within them, waiting to resurface.

Wrapping her arms around him, she nestled her face into the crook of his neck. The familiar warmth of his skin spread through her like an open fire. For the longest time, she too couldn't think of anything to say. All she could focus on was the simple, incredible joy of feeling his arms around her, holding her close. The emotions from that one kiss were still dancing about inside her, wilder and far livelier than she'd ever remembered.

At last, Patrick finally broke the silence and said, "I suppose it's a great night for star-gazing…and kissing. Who would have thought?"

Amber chuckled at the remark and added, "Guess you're right. Kissing under the stars in Hawaii. What a night."

Patrick smiled. "What a night," he agreed.

For the next hour, the two reflected back on that morning that had led to such frustration, grief and confusion.

"So…you were telling the truth," she uttered, half to herself.

Patrick nodded. "It didn't make sense to me either. But when I thought back to what happened at the school with the gunman, I kept thinking there has to be something bigger going on here. It was the only explanation that made sense. And then today by the river. You said the raven was coming right toward you?"

"I swear it came right at me," she told him, shivering at the thought of the startling image. "Its claws were out, it kept shrieking, and…and I know that sounds weird but—"

"But you know what you saw," Patrick said, finishing her sentence.

"Exactly."

"I don't know who that woman was or where she came from," he added. "But how and why did she end up dead? Nothing about anything that's happened makes sense. The only thing that has to be true is something bigger is going on."

"But what?" she asked, the possibilities making her head swim.

"I don't know," he said honestly, placing his hands behind his head. "But whatever it is, we'll get through it. If someone out there means us harm, well…they'll have to get through me first because there's no way I'm letting them hurt you."

"Wait," said Amber suddenly.

"What?"

"There was a dream last night."

"A dream?" said Patrick. "What was it about?"

"I…I don't really remember much about it. All I remember is falling. I couldn't see anything or hear anything or anyone around me. It was like I was free falling, but then I saw it. It…it was a lion."

Patrick raised a curious brow. "A lion?"

"I'm pretty sure that's what it was," she told him. "I don't know what happened but somehow, the lion took me out of that dream. I was terrified of hitting the bottom or dying but then when the lion showed up, that all went away. I felt safe around it."

She then looked to Patrick and smiled, "But I do know who the lion was. That one's obvious."

"What do you mean?"

"It was _you_ , Pat," she said, still smiling.

He chuckled, ran his hand through his long, brown hair and shrugged. "I'm not a lion."

"But you _are_ ," she corrected, taking his hand into hers. "You saved my life…twice. I don't think I've ever met anyone as brave as you. The fact that you risked your life twice to save me…Patrick, that's amazing. I don't know that I've ever met someone like you."

She kissed him, placed a hand on his cheek and told him with unwavering confidence, "You're a lion, Patrick, and you've got a lion's heart."

For a while, the two did nothing but lie on their backs, stare up at the sky and watch for shooting stars. They felt they could have gone on like that forever, till Patrick looked out towards the beach with a small smile.

"What?" asked Amber, noticing the change of expression on his face.

"Want to go for a walk?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"A walk on the beach," Amber said, rising to her feet. With a little wink, she declared, "Sounds good to me."

"A walk on a Hawaiian beach," Patrick threw in, winking.

Amber laughed, and for the next hour, the two teachers walked the length of the sandy beach, the peaceful silence all around them. The feeling of the soft sand under their feet was something they felt they could get used to. What with the sand under their feet, the dazzling stars over their heads and the comfort of the other's hand locked in theirs, it was nothing short of a perfect Hawaiian evening.

Following this, the two then returned to the house. Rather than sleeping inside, both decided to instead spend the night outdoors under the stars. With Patrick beside her, Amber snuggled up next to him, resting her head against his chest. Hearing the sound of his beating heart, she closed her eyes, felt his arms wrap around her and was soon fast asleep, feeling more comfortable than she had in weeks. Before nodding off himself, Patrick kissed her softly on the forehead, and then he too dozed off with a smile on his face.


End file.
